Frostbite
by Lord Mendasuit
Summary: Winter raged around Taylor, who was sealed in her locker at freezing temperatures. The cold doesn't bother her anyway.
1. 1-1 Crystalization

**Frostbite**

* * *

Summary: Winter raged around Taylor, who was sealed in her locker at freezing temperatures. The cold doesn't bother her anyway.

* * *

 **1.1 Crystalization**

The sneeze caught me unaware; I'd been asleep on my seat, apparently.

Fortunately, it seemed it'd been a short enough nap that nobody'd noticed. Nobody'd cared to notice, at any rate. That was good. Invisible is good. I'd rather not be seen than challenge the belligerent tempers of a bunch of teenaged idiots.

Mr. Gladly smiled and looked at everyone in the class as he expected an answer to a question Taylor hadn't heard.

"It's no surprise that most of you can't answer," he said, finally. "After all, the impact of parahumans of the world has been immense. But, what we can do to make it a simpler question is to simply focus on a smaller sample to build a bigger whole. The idea is simple, you will separate into groups, no more than four to a group, and we'll pick a famous parahuman for each group to make a presentation for. The idea is to exposit on what changes they have brought to the world at large, there is no shame in picking someone with a smaller impact, though correctly expositing on the socio-political changes brought along by, say, Legend would, naturally, receive a higher score."

He seems to be in love with the sound of his voice. I wonder if he honestly thinks he's some sort of great orator - I find his droning tone to be nigh unbearable, and I'm the girl who can sit endlessly alone for hours. He seems to think he is the popular teacher, everyone's favorite, but the only reason anyone even comes close to liking him is because he is such an useless pushover that never punishes anyone for anything.

Admittedly, I've never been one to test a teacher's patience, but then again, it was no surprise he let Madison get away with everything she did right in front of him.

Hell, I wouldn't be shocked if he went home every night and masturbated to thoughts of some of the more attractive female students, Madison included.

Seeing her with that smug grin as I was stuck with the two least popular boys in class, I wondered if she got satisfaction out of it.

Me?

Honestly, I can't even remember the name of one of them and the other I only remembered because he's the class' resident creeper, who was frequently a creeper towards me.

Knowing that it was invisible to eyes other than mine, I looked upon one of my palms and saw the swirling heat swimming above it. I used my left hand to massage my wrist, to pretend there was a reason for me staring at my palm, when in truth all I wanted was simply to remind myself of just how far above Madison I truly am now.

I am better. I am greater. I am a Parahuman, I am... or I'm going to be anyway... a hero.

The mantra helps me keep calm.

I know that some day, she's going to try to coast by as she always did through school and meet with the brick wall of a world that doesn't care how cute she is. She might even have to resort to employing her, ahem, oral examination skills, to land even a basic job, while I received a check from the protectorate for doing what I felt was right, saving people from imminent doom and maybe even kill an endbringer some day.

The heat quickly moved away from my hand, and I could see the beginnings of frost forming on my hand as the water in the air froze. With a mental flex, I returned the environment to its normal condition.

Much as I wanted to, I could not just make a spear of frost and throw it at Madison. For one, unlike me, Madison would likely die from being frozen over. For another, my cold had a habit of manifesting as ice whenever I threw it at something, and it would be really obvious that I had been the one to throw it.

Still, the fantasy of cutting loose and simply raining icy death on everyone around me, and I knew I could do it, was one that warmed me up inside. Even if I could never feel warm again, technically, it's not like the cold bothers me anyway.

I superimposed the images of the boats I had practiced throwing lances of cold at, in the boat graveyard, with the images of the bodies of some of my more annoying classmates, but I sighed and dismissed the thought.

A hero can't be having thoughts of murdering a bunch of kids just for being assholes, after all, and I will be a hero. No matter what.

It didn't take long for the class groups to descend into bickering about which member of the triumvirate'd had the biggest impact on the world. I quietly handed in our group's - well, mostly mine - paper while Madison was busy arguing rather loudly with one of her friends about whether Alexandria had done more for feminism or Legend had done more for gay pride.

As for me... Well, I rather focused a little on the effects of the relatively unknown hero known as Vikare - the very first costumed and masked vigilante on record, and the very first man to touch Scion, the first and greatest hero in the planet. I also tried to place emphasis on the fact that many of the customs and quirks of modern cape culture had their start with him, a former cancer patient who'd become a masked vigilante after Scion's touch... and who had died by being clubbed in the back of the head in '85.

A rather ignoble end, all in all. Nobody had caught his killer, but his funeral had been a landmark nonetheless.

Mr. Gladly would likely mark it a passing grade and give Madison a perfect mark regardless of how well she actually did... but I'd get the satisfaction of knowing she would have to scramble with her group to get a paper out; she couldn't steal mine this time around.

One of the benefits of my power that I really could not appreciate enough was that I could give myself a metaphorical cold shower whenever I was getting a little hotheaded. It's amazing how much effect body heat has on our temper, and how much easier it is to think things through when you can cool yourself with a thought.

Admittedly, I hadn't yet got to enjoy an ability to keep cold even in the highest of heats. I knew I could do it - I'd been stupid enough to shove one of my hands into boiling water to test it, and it had indeed frozen immediately. Foam and bubbles and all. Some water even froze in mid air and bounced off the ice around my hand when gravity caught up.

Fortunately, ice yielded to my whims. Much as I feared my power was hydrokinesis, a lesser version of Leviathan's, it was not - I could not control water, at any temperature... above freezing. Frozen water, though - it yielded to my every whim. Ice was my plaything, and I could create it nearly at whim, likely violating several laws of physics but I'm not a physicist so I'm not sure.

"Hebert!" someone shouted.

Oh, people were talking to me. Was it lunchtime already?

"Taylor," the same voice said, a bit more subdued as it came closer. I recognized Mr. Gladly's voice. "I've noticed things, Taylor, and I wanted to know - why aren't you doing anything for yourself?" he asked.

I felt my temper rise, like blazing hot fire erupting from a crack in the ground.

I dowsed the flames of rage with ice cold water, straight from the arctic - the earth still burned, but the explosion was calmed. I was angry, but I was angry in a way I could control. "Mr. Gladly," I began, regarding him as respectfully as I could, even though I have no respect for the man, "I am doing something for myself."

He seemed puzzled.

Good, I'm going to try to sate my anger at him through subtle means. I know I can't keep it quiet forever unless I indulge at least a little.

"But you're not... telling anyone," he said, "or even fighting back."

"But I am," I said. "I am not telling anyone, nor am I fighting back, and in doing so, I am doing everything against them. You see, Mr. Gladly, that is what they want me to do. They want me to get angry, to fight back, or to get spooked and go to the faculty. And then it's my word against theirs, and they are three, and I am one," I explained, knowing that he probably wasn't quite getting it.

It's okay, I know you're stupid. "I don't get it."

Honest, at least. "I am fighting back, Mr. Gladly, through means of frustration," I confessed. "What is a bully looking for when she insults another girl, Mr. Gladly?"

I kept saying his name, he probably hadn't noticed it, to enforce his position as an authority here, as a teacher - I was forcing him to acknowledge all the bullying that he routinely ignored, even if indirectly, but I needed to be subtle about it. Buttering him up was out - dumb as he was, he'd notice schmoozing from me nigh immediately, because I was not known to do it, but cold indifference had become a trademark for me these last few weeks, so all I had to do was turn it into respectfully cold indifference.

"They're looking for a reaction," he said, finally realizing what I was getting at.

"Yes, exactly," I explained. He didn't even notice I was patronizing him. This man was a teacher? I've seen smarter doorknobs. At least they did their job. "And when they want something and go to the length of hurting another to obtain it, and even so it is denied to them, guess what happens?"

"They get frustrated, they get angry, and they give the reaction they wanted of you instead," Mr. Gladly summarized. "Hm... I've never quite seen 'ignore it, and it'll go away' rationalized quite this way. But still, I can't imagine this not being painful to you, Taylor."

"Somewhat," I admitted. "You see, the reason Emma used to hurt me as much as she did was because I still held out hope that some day, she'd apologize and we might even be friends again. Let's just say that a little blood and a storm got in the way of that, and I've cut any and all remaining ties to her - I can say, with honesty, that I am free of Emma Barnes and her words now affect me no more than anyone else. Much like all the others who would insult me as readily as they would greet a friend, she is nothing to me."

Mr. Gladly nodded. "Taylor, I think I have newfound respect for you. Honestly, I expected anger, I expected you to lash out against me - to be quite honest, I don't quite know how to act in this situation, myself. I've never had to deal with it, you see. Usually, we kick it up to the Principal but, well, Blackwell has been less than helpful, you understand."

That was a surprisingly interesting nugget of information. Apparently, there was a reason why the teachers weren't helping me, and from Gladly's words, apparently the order came from on high. I'd pegged him as someone who sorely wanted acknowledgment and approval from the popular kids, but maybe he was actually just incompetent at his job instead of actively malicious.

Never assume malice when stupidity is a viable answer, a wise man once said.

Come to think of it, it was a rather interesting thought. Of course, it clearly didn't apply to the trio of bitches, for whom the point of stupidity had long since passed and they'd jumped headfirst into the pool of malice, but I imagine that most others weren't actively malicious - they just didn't care for or about me.

It was almost sobering and kind of a blow to my ego, but when it comes down to it, I have an awareness that when it comes down to it, Winslow does not revolve around me.

It's just a shithole in general.

"Have you tried acting like a teacher?" I asked.

He seemed confused. "I... what do you mean?"

He was giving me the benefit of the doubt. I'd proved reasonable and willing to be cool, calm and collected, so he was not immediately assuming an insult from my words. It was, but I was ready to turn it around. "Simple. You are a teacher of World Affairs, Mr. Gladly, but you have no doubt taken advanced schooling beyond high school. I know that courses beyond high school start demanding for creativity in assignments, as well as cleverness and thinking outside the box."

This was all bullshit, but Gladly seemed the type to agree with anything that made him look better. I wasn't surprised when he nodded. I started to feel a little bit of vindictive rage helping me.

"Well, Mr. Gladly, I am sure you are more than smart enough to figure out ways to teach certain students that their behavior is wrong without directly punishing them for it. You have seen Madison Clements take my assignments, have you not?" I asked.

He frowned. He was unwilling to admit to wrong doing.

"'s cool," I said, "just answer."

"Yes," he finally admitted.

"Then make it simple. When she hands it in as hers, take it as mine and award her a zero for not handing in an assignment. It won't raise an alarm with Blackwell, because you're not punishing her for her bullying, but it certainly will raise an alarm with her, when she notices her behavior isn't being rewarded as usual."

"Taylor, it's not that I intend to reward them, it's just that-"

I raised my hand. "Mr. Gladly, I get it. You like your job and you want to keep it, you want to keep a peaceful classroom and you want to be friends with all the cool kids, everyone wants such things," I said. I can't have him back down on me now. "But you're a teacher, aren't you? You're here to help shape young minds and prepare them for the future. You're here to help, aren't you?"

"Yeah," he said. "I'm here to help," he said.

"Then help them. You know that this isn't good for them. Help them be better people, and they will thank you later."

I despised this man.

He was weak, spineless and easily manipulable.

Were this an earlier time, before that storm, I would have gotten angry, lashed out and burned any possible bridge with him, simply because I despise him that much.

But as the cold washed over my very being, my anger stilled and my mood calmed, but deep beneath, I was motivated by a deep seated flame that I could not snuff completely.

It urged me forward. As I said my goodbyes and left Gladly's presence, I couldn't help but wonder if all my control wasn't just an illusion.

In the end, I suppose it really was. I'm not delusional, I know that ultimately, I am acting as I am acting out of anger. I used my cold to help myself feel in control, to cool down my anger - but in the end, it wasn't much help when I stopped and realized that just because it wasn't an explosion of emotion, it didn't mean that it wasn't still anger.

I could almost feel my brow furrowing as I dwelt in that unpleasant thought.

I'm indulging in my negative emotions way more than I had before.

Honestly, I'm starting to wonder if trying to 'cool down' wasn't making things worse in the long run, but I'd hardly ever feel satisfied unless I finally did something right. Hey, maybe the bullshit I sold to Gladly would even come into play, and I could come out smelling like roses out of this mess.

Who knows, maybe Emma will even pull her head out of her ass, realize she's been a bitch and run crying into my arms.

Admittedly, these days I'm not sure I'd be able to stop myself from strangling her if she did.


	2. 1-2 Crystalization

**Frostbite**

* * *

Summary: Winter raged around Taylor, who was sealed in her locker at freezing temperatures. The cold doesn't bother her anyway.

* * *

 **1.2 Crystalization**

School was, at best, tolerable.

Home was an escape, but not by much.

I think seeing Dad be miserable hurt more than anything the bullies did or could do. Because this is truly my fault - because I was a weak and spineless little girl for so long, I'd created a situation in which dad had felt absolutely powerless.

Feelings burst up from deep within, but I squashed them. No time to dwell on that, I could not blame dad for not noticing everything that I hid from him. Besides, he wasn't even home most of the time. The Dockworkers Association had seen an upsurge in the amount of work they found, likely a direct result of a lot of them being capable builders and the city being one of the highest Cape-Per-Capita ratios in the United States.

Being as much the center of the world as it was, and housing arguably the strongest capes in the planet, it was a bit surprising to learn that the United States, of all countries, actually had one of the lowest Cape per Capita ratios, but it made sense when you thought that the USA simply had a lot more people, a lot more normals, than the places with the highest Cape per Capita ratios. I'd been a bit curious about the causes, and it'd been touched upon in World Affairs class.

Surprisingly, the explanation was actually fairly simple.

As much of a shithole as certain places could be, America is a first world country. Nay, THE first world country, the standard that others are judged against. Sure, it's not perfect, but we're certainly a damn sight better off than most of the rest of the world. In countries that were wartorn, controlled by warlords or feeling the after effects of more devastating Endbringer attacks or unchecked S Class threats, naturally there'd be a lot more people who would hit what is normally called a 'trigger point'.

It hadn't been Gladly who'd given that response, mind - it was one of the smarter boys in the class, a cape geek as it were, who'd also taken the time to explain Trigger Events.

Oh, I know those firsthand, but an outsider's perspective can be interesting. The fascination some had with trigger events was honestly a bit creepy, though I'm probably sensitive about mine... then again, fuck you, it was the worst moment of my life!

Better not to concentrate too much on that, I don't want to suddenly find out there's a limit to how much I can cool myself down. I let out a deep breath and I smiled when my breath fogged before me. Had anyone seen it, they would've thought it odd.

The city wasn't particularly cold, even during winter - Brockton Bay was a very temperate place, even after the Endbringers and to a lesser extent elementally inclined capes had fucked with the environment on a number of ways - but people still walked around wearing multiple layers. They probably thought me a weirdo because I was walking around in only a long sleeved shirt and thin leggins. Heh, I could be out and about in nothing but my underwear and I'd still be comfortable.

Then again, I'm fairly sure I can take a dip in literal icewater and come out warmer than I was when I went in, so there's that.

I'm not dressed in a particularly noteworthy way otherwise, just normal clothes, but it doesn't matter tonight. I'd been practicing this for a while. I ducked into an out of the way alley, placing a hand in front of my face. It'd taken countless hours in front of a mirror to get it down, but being able to make a mask purely out of ice was invaluable. Especially when I discovered that my ice did not melt if I didn't want it to. It still made things cold, I knew that much, but it didn't melt, and it didn't get warm. I wasn't taking any sort of advanced physics course, and some light research told me this shouldn't work like that.

But I'm not going to complain about my bullshit power's bullshit, as I smiled beneath the ice butterfly that was my mask. Admittedly, not the most creative design it could be, but I'm working on it, give me some time here! It took a while to figure out that the reason tongues got stuck to cold poles was the water in saliva freezing, and that was why just breathing on it was the best way to unstuck your tongue.

The same principle held my mask to my face, except that due to the nature of my nevermelt ice, and I think I need a better name for that, this wouldn't come off unless I willed it. Another quirk, or perhaps perk, of my power - it was fire-and-forget, when I was making something out of ice, I didn't have to actively think to hold it together.

Cold was different, unless I was actively manipulating it, the world would reassert the laws of physics, but the moment the ice formed, it'd stay there until I willed it gone.

As it is, I'm on a bit of a time crunch. Being immune to cold has its perks, because it allows me to do something that would otherwise be highly suicidal, which is covering most of my body on ice. Now, it's a great insulator, for sure, and I understand how igloos work, but doing it the way I'm doing it would only hurt normal people.

I am not normal people. I am parahuman, and I'm going to be a hero, so I gotta be badass too.

Making armor's easier than my mask. Mostly, I'm just covering myself in ice. I'll find some way to design workable joint armor sometime later, for now I'm going without, covering instead all the not moving parts.

They're squishier anyway. I know there are martial arts out there totally focused on breaking an opponent's joints, but hey, if I'm letting you get close enough to me to do that, I deserve it for being dumb.

I mean, hello, I can freeze things with a thought, I'm only wearing ice armor just in case I don't see someone, who might hit me. My ice's tough when I pack enough of it into a thin enough layer. Again, bullshit power's bullshit, not gonna question it. Won't trust it to stop a bullet, but any protection helps. Admittedly, I'm not entirely sure it'll be any protection at all. I mean, it's tough, but it IS ice, after all.

With the set up complete, I tied my hair with an elastic band and took a deep breath.

Time to look for a gangbanger to put the fear of cold into!

It strikes me as I walk into the street that it's probably a pretty bad idea to just, y'know, go street level. I've always thought of heroes as jumping rooftop to rooftop, but I'm not super athletic, so I don't think I could manage it. Plus, I don't even have a name. Maybe this was a mistake? I'm not really as prepared as I think I should be.

I don't think I'll ever be as prepared as I should be.

The cold washes over my nerves, and I steel myself. Be cool, Taylor, cool as ice.

Okay, being able to think on it some more, I really should dismiss it all and go back home, I'll get a name, and then-

Because of course when the hero is thinking of going back home a failure, there's the wail of a woman being assaulted. How utterly cliché. Still, I'm a hero, and I can't exactly just stay here and do nothing while there's a woman in danger of getting assaulted. I ran, mindful of the ice coating parts of my body, into another alley just 'round the corner (now that I think about it, this part of the city has a disproportionate number of dirty, rundown alleys to commit illicit activity on - it bore investigation). Reaching the scene, I nearly tripped when I stopped, the weight of the ice throwing my balance off.

"Freeze!" I shouted.

Yes, yes, I realized the moment I said it.

"... Is that a cape?" someone asked. It was a boy, age 15, holding an overly girly purse.

"Big blue crystal mask? Yes, this is a cape, dipshit," his partner, a girl a year older, holding a knife, said. "Get him!"

Behind them was a dark skinned woman with an expression that spoke of an odd mix of relief and fear.

And I suddenly realized I forgot a very important fact about crime fighting.

Namely, I can't fight worth shit, as I learned when some nobody who didn't even have a weapon nearly knocked me out with a poorly thrown punch at my jaw. Not that I could correct him on his form, I only know it was a badly thrown punch because it was more like he used his arm as a flail than anything else.

Also FUCK that stings like hell!

I was reeling back when I heard him screech in agony as well.

"Wow you're dumber than I thought," the woman said, "she's wearing armor shithead!2

Apparently he had tried to punch me in the stomach. It didn't go well for him. Didn't even feel it. The armor was a good idea, I need to refine it. I will never doubt its effectiveness again! Then the woman came at me with the knife.

She went for my neck, where there was no armor, and I realized that those refinements to my armor needed to be done ASAP, because I just realized how vulnerable I am in my joints to people holding weapons. Also the neck. And head. And my face below my nose.

Fuck I REALLY didn't think any of this through, did I? I thought I was so clever, too!

She swiped her knife at my face, probably trying for my neck, and I threw myself back to dodge.

Think, Taylor, think! You got yourself into this mess, how can you get out?

The woman jumped on top of me, straddling my chest, which was a mistake - she was wearing short shorts, her legs were bare, and they were pressed against the cold ice of my armor.

"FUCK that's cold!" she shouted, throwing herself off me.

"Who's the dumbass now!?" the boy taunted. He approached me, probably to kick me in the head while I was down.

Was this it? Was I going to fail and get the shit kicked out of me? Am I really that bad of a hero?

Ever since I got these powers I-

...

Wow I'm a fucking idiot.

I raised one hand and pointed it at the boy. "I said FREEZE!"

He got a moment to settle his facial expression into shock before his thick jacket became a very stiff frozen jacket. The difference in weight and balance threw him off as he reared to kick me in the head and he fell. His jacket cracked to pieces, probably saving him from hypothermia, as he rolled around and rubbed at his arms and chest, trying to warm up after the equivalent of dipping his torso in ice.

The woman took a few steps back. "Shit, right, cape," she said.

This has all been a comedy of errors and stupidity on every side. I mean, they were wearing blue so they were probably merchants and likely high because of that, but I have no fucking excuse for forgetting I have fucking powers, when I'm goddamn wearing them.

With a deep breath, I stood up once again, holding one of my hands up. "I wanted to solve this peacefully," I said. That's a bluff, I actually intended to go in and win a fistfight, because I'm made of stupid, apparently. "But you leave me no choice," I said, the cold gathering in my hand. I knew how to do this, I shaped the cold into what I wanted and soon enough I had a six foot long spear in my hand. Well, I say spear, but it's more of a thin icicle. It was also very pointy. I stabbed it into the ground.

A show of force. I have no clue how to use this spear. "Now throw down that knife, get down on your knees, and maybe we'll all walk away from here mostly intact."

My ass still stings, so I won't, and goddammit, they won't either!

"Yeah, right," the female merchant said, before lunging at me. Instead of using the spear, I instead repeated my earlier tactic, though I targetted the knife instead. It became unbearably cold to the touch, and when it fell to the ground as she dropped it, it shattered. I'm not sure that should've happened. Wouldn't just the ice around it break? I mean, I know I froze the knife itself, including the steel in it, because my power is bullshit and fucks thermodynamics like that, but still - it's odd as fuck to see steel shattering like glass.

Useful, but weird.

"Ah... uh... can I surrender now?" the boy asked.

"Pussy!" the girl shouted.

I palmed my face. "You know what, fuck this," I said, taking the girl's distraction to punch her in the stomach. I did it wrong, probably, because she was dry heaving, not gasping for breath, like she was trying to vomit. I really need to stop trusting TV and movies for this shit. Nevertheless, I grabbed her arms when she was busy dealing with her upset stomach and brought them together long enough to create an ice cuff around her wrists. Probably not that great an idea, but hey, it works.

The boy merely offered me his arms. "I'm not stupid," he said. I have my doubts. "I'd rather not get punched if I can avoid it and the last thing I want is for you to think freezing my underwear's a nice prank."

"I... had not thought about doing that. I will consider it," I said.

I honestly hadn't. That's fucking evil, man.

"Sheesh," the guy said, sitting down, "that power of yours' fucking scary, man."

"I know," I said, smiling at him. "You're smarter than your girlfriend."

"Nah, man, she's my sister," he said, shaking his head.

"Oh. Sorry," I said, feeling really awkward about it.

"I don't really go with the Merchants, see? I think I'm just not cut for this criminal thing."

The victim, meanwhile, had been completely flabbergasted by the whole exchange that had occurred in front of her. "... I think I'm safe now?" she asked, more than stated.

"Yeah, pretty much," I assured her. "Uh... I was just thinking, we should probably call the police. You wouldn't happen to have a phone with you, would you?" I asked, to which she seemed somewhat frustrated.

"You're really new at this, aren't you?" the victim said, shaking her head. "'cause you kinda suck."

"I'm sorry," I said, looking at the ground.

"Ah, shit - no, look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be this mean to you, you went out and put yourself in danger for my sake, so-"

I cut her off, raising a hand. "Let's... let's just call the police. I think I'm gonna go bang my head against the wall for the next few hours, see if I can knock the awkward out of my memory."

"My cellphone's in my back pocket, hang on, I think I can reach it," the boy said.

"Johnny you asshole, you're gonna call the police on yourself?" the female mugger said.

"Hey, I figure, if I'm cooperative, I'll be let off with a warning. I'm gonna blame you for strongarming me into this," the so called Johnny said.

"Family dispute much?" I asked.

"Ugh, he's always like this!" the sister shouted.

Johnny handed me his cellphone, which didn't have a pin so it was easy to unlock. I promptly dialed 911. The voice at the other end gave out the standard 'what's your emergency' greeting.

"This is... uh... look I don't have a cape name yet, but point is, I got these two muggers handcuffed-"

"Tell them I'm helpful!" Johnny said.

"-and I'm calling you with one of their phones. A guy and a girl, 'round 15, maybe 16. Send someone for pickup please?"

"Hey tell them that I'm helpful!" Johnny insisted.

"Oh, and one of them was, uh, helpful. He seems insistent on that," I added. Whatever. I don't care, he can give his statement to the police.

"Thank you very much, we are dispatching an unit, please remain where you are. If possible, please ask the victim to remain as well," the officer? at the other end said.

I nodded, which made me feel stupid because I'm having a phone conversation, and gave a verbal ok when I realized how foolish I must've looked. "I will."

Apparently, independant capes calling in like this was normal in Brockton Bay. The police was even prepared to guide me through the process of submitting a formal report, no matter how awkward and inexperienced I was. It seems like they sent an unit specialized in getting newbie capes up to speed.

Surprisingly, despite being terribly outmatched by the enemies they face, I can only have respect for the BBPD. They still go out even though on any particular call they could face any number of nasty and ghastly shit.

But hey, my first night out as a cape was a success! Awkward, stumbling and pathetic, but success!

That's better than nothing, isn't it? I... need to go back to the drawing board, I think. Also, tomorrow is a school day, so I should hurry on home.

I thanked the officers for their help and then took off running. I had a bus to catch.


	3. 1-3 Crystalization

**Frostbite**

* * *

Summary: Winter raged around Taylor, who was sealed in her locker at freezing temperatures. The cold doesn't bother her anyway.

* * *

 **1.3 Crystalization**

In hindsight, this was a mistake.

But I was running high off of my successes all week.

I mean, I've had my share of stumbling, and one or two scares, but hey, I've improved from each and every one! For starters, I got something more conductive to hiding my identity, a featureless black get up that I would then cover with ice, white as virgin snow. I can do that apparently, it's only a small layer of snow, once compacted it stays in place. You would not think ice can be sticky, but water, once frozen in place, can be very stubborn, apparently.

It's slightly more bulky, but not by much, and it's also better for stopping blunt damage. I know this because I was hit by a pipe two days ago and it'd bruised me through the armor, while being hit with a bat yesterday, when I made the modification to my armor, was significantly less painful, because of the snow cushioning the blow.

See? I'm improving!

I'd also given a bit more of a feminine shape to the armor rather than just ice tubes. So what if I'm... exaggerating a bit with the proportions of my chest? More armor means more ice and snow, means more padding between attacks and my body.

Yes, that is totally the justification and it's not because I've been confused with a man every time I've gone out.

I've also gotten very good at tying my hair back. I've been thinking of using a braid so it's less of a problem, but braiding my hair on the quick has proven problematic, so for now, I'll tie it if I need to change out in the street and braid it if I'm going out to patrol from home.

I'm reluctant to do that last one because dad is bound to notice something weird. Instead, I'm pretending to have friends outside school. It's manipulation, and I feel horrible about lying to dad, but it needs to be done - everyone knows that sharing your secret identity with anyone is just asking for something to go wrong. Also, I would not want someone to see me leaving home in costume.

Speaking about which, I've somewhat streamlined my mask, so that it now covers only my face instead of making it as large as it was before. Again, I discovered it was a problem when someone used it like handles to grab the sides of my head. Not fun. It's honestly pathetic just how much I've gotten my ass kicked by common thugs.

That should've been all the proof I needed to take a step back and go into learning and researching and training for a little bit more, but I was antsy.

The Bitch Trio has been incredibly annoying all week. I've been keeping my anger at bay and taming it further by putting criminals away, and I've been improving every day, and... and...

And honestly I'm still not as ready as I should be, to just go out and stop thugs from engaging in thuggish behavior. Most of the time, it wasn't even gang activity.

Today, though, I made the mistake of intruding upon an ABB operation in progress. It seemed to be a snatch and grab, as some goons stepped out of a van and quickly cornered a young blonde. Well, I say young, but she did look older than me. She seemed to recognize the threat but, oddly enough, she didn't seem terrified as I know I would be in her position.

Well, not me now, because, you know, cape and all, but still, I wasted no time and quickly rushed into the scene brandishing a club made of ice. Also important, I streamlined my weaponry into stuff I can actually use, so for the most part, I shaped my ice into clubs, bats and in one instance, a very large knife (for intimidation purposes only, I swear I didn't quote Crocodile Dundee just because it made me feel giddy inside).

"Stop right there, criminal scum!" I shouted.

You have no idea how satisfying it is to ham things up, I swear. I would not be in this business if they forbid that. For reasonable levels of ham anyway.

"Who the fuck is you?" one of the bangers asked, in accented English.

"A corpse," another replied, leveling a black, shiny and metallic handgun at my face.

It was then that I realized... Holy shit guns are scary.

Scared as shit, I brought up my club and in my panic, had it expand and transform into a disk. I heard the crack of gunfire a moment after. The disk cracked and I could feel a slight burn in my arm, as well as a stinging sensation. "Shit that hurt," I said.

"Die!" the gunman shouted, and I concentrated on repairing my shield and making it thicker, while compacting the ice more.

He emptied the rest of his clip, fucking 16 bullets, while the third and fourth bangers went back to the van, apparently intent on grabbing more weapons.

I let the shield fall apart, and my arm fell limp to my side. It was starting to hurt like a motherfucker and, praying it worked, I sent my cold to the area and froze it. The cold might not bother me, but I can still freeze parts of my body, it seems, because it stopped hurting. I couldn't feel it at all, but it didn't hurt anymore, so that was good.

I made another club on my left hand and quickly swung it at the gunman, who was busy reloading rather clumsily. I got him in the arm, making him drop both gun and clip, but had to duck to dodge a swing of a large pipe. I knew how to deal with this, I won't forget I have powers this time. I used my left hand as a guide and sent my cold into his pipe.

It was broken a second later - he didn't let go of it, but when it hit my armored arm, all that happened was that it crashed into a dozen pieces. The snow padding on my armor absorbed the blow, and it only rocked my stance, helping me throw myself to the side to avoid another thug swinging a large knife. Same tactic had him dropping it and the knife shattering. Disarmed, the thugs were at the mercy of someone with a club... but they were still better at fighting than me, and only one guy had taken a blow. I thought quickly and froze the gun to the ground, where the first thug was lunging for it after massaging his arm for a bit.

Hah, take that, motherfucker!

Then I got kicked on the side. Again, the padding on my armor absorbed the blow, but shit, this isn't good. I raised both arms and covered my head, just in time, since a kick just hit my right arm and FUCKING HELL does it hurt!

I screeched in pain and then the thug kicking me took a moment to stop on my wounded arm. I grit my teeth and grabbed at his leg with my left, freezing his pants. That can't be pleasant, but I'm not feeling particularly charitable to these assholes. The guy stumbled and fell, his pants shattered. He screeched in another language and began rubbing his legs, trying to heat them up. Hairy asian legs in boxers is not what I want to see today, so I rolled to the side.

It was a good idea, because someone was about to stomp on my head. I just dodged a bullet, even if my right arm is telling me I did a bad because I rolled on it.

When I got to my feet, I got punched in the face for my trouble, and if that hadn't been enough to throw me back, he probably wouldn't have let up, I really need some sort of face guard, I'll work on that next.

I ducked below his next attack, mostly out of instinct, and when he tried to throw another one, I decided enough was enough and I mentally 'threw' a lance of cold at him. The ice spear formed from behind me and rocketed towards him, impacting on his left shoulder and going through it with a shower of blood.

Shit, I didn't think it'd be that bad. The guy screeched in agony. I'd just thought - no, I don't know what I was thinking, I think I'm losing my composure, I need to calm down.

A cool feeling washed over me, and my nerves stilled, for the time being. I could feel my eyes narrowing as the other thugs started to look scared as they realized that the cape that they'd thought they were pushing around revealed that she'd been holding back.

Okay, I don't want to kill or seriously injure them, I need to think, how to put them down? The guy I stabbed is on the ground, the wound is frozen around the spear. He seems to have passed out from the pain, he's still breathing, that's good.

"Hey," I heard.

It was the blonde that I'd rescued by coming into this situation. Why was she still here? She should've run the moment I proved I couldn't handle this.

"Thank you for that," she continued, "the police should be getting here any moment now, you just have to hold on for a minute or two," she said. "You can do this. I believe in you."

I nodded. It's encouraging that at least the civilian believes in me. Okay, I can do this! Come on, Taylor, just a minute, you have to hold them in place for a minute! How do I keep them from escaping, when they have a getaway vehicle?

Like a lightbulb going off, an idea popped into my head and I knew just what to do. Gathering the cold in my mind, I made a bigger than normal lance and I threw it.

Past the thugs, who scrambled to get out of the way, and into their van, even now still rumbling slightly, its engine active should they need to run quickly.

The large spear of frost was sharper than I expected, digging through the van's front, shredding the engine, and coming out the other side to get imbedded into the pavement.

Contrary to popular belief, cars don't explode if their engines get stabbed.

They shouted in a language I don't know and can't understand, and I used the cold to form a large club on my left hand, throwing myself at the nearest thug while they were distracted and smacking him on the side of the head with my ice club. Probably not a good idea, it could do some serious damage, but it did throw him to the ground where he began to moan in pain. The remaining two seemed pretty spooked, but determined.

I knew why. They knew they couldn't run, so they were probably thinking the only way out was taking me on. They didn't know I probably wouldn't be able to catch up if they cut and ran.

They both rushed me at once, and I discovered that I can only really handle one thug at once, and barely, at that. The two quickly began overwhelming my ability to defend myself, and as they were circling and attacking me with trash they'd grabbed from the street, I realized that I couldn't concentrate long enough to freeze any of their makeshift weaponry.

Deciding that I had to do something, I urged my wounded arm to move and put both arms on one of their shoulders, throwing my full weight at them. Now, normally, this wouldn't be exactly effective, I might be five foot nine, but other than a slight pot belly, I'm rail thin. I kind of look like I'm starving myself. I don't weigh much. However, all the ice and snow on me? That's heavy, and I'm only running around with all of it on because I know it's suicidal not to... and I can cast it off, reduce its thickness so it's only a disguise, when I need to.

Right now, I'd packed as much ice and snow in as I could as I threw myself at the banger, toppling him to the ground. The air was driven out of his lungs by the impact with a grunt, and he was trying to catch it when I used my good arm to punch him in the nose, banging his head against the ground. I hope I didn't break something important... but I don't think I did, since I'm not sure I even actually broke his nose.

No, wait, I did, it's all crooked now.

Behind me, I heard something like a cracking sound, and I heard the sound of a length of pipe hitting the ground as someone gurgled, before crashing to the ground limply.

"Thank you for the save," I said, freezing the trapped banger to the ground by his shirt.

"Thank you for the save," the blonde cheekily replied. "I thought you were the hero here?" she asked.

"Well, you're my hero right now," I admitted, scratching my cheek a bit. "Ah, give me a moment, I'll cuff these guys."

"Let me help you," she said. "You've been shot and require medical attention, don't worry, the police are informed," she said. "How's your arm?"

"I've had worse," I said.

It was a lie. I've never been shot at before.

"You don't need to act tough before me," she said, giving me a smug smile, "even if you're pathetic, you're still my hero tonight, okay?" she said, patting my shoulder.

It was... somewhat disturbing, how she could both insult me and lift my spirits at the same time. Yeah, she was right, my showing was pathetic. All my showings had been, pretty much... but it was working. I was saving people all those times. I'm doing hero work. I stopped some ABB thugs from doing something horrible to a young girl!

"You might want to get a cellphone, though. The police really don't like it when caped vigilantes go around without calling in their, ahem, arrests," she said. "Though you knew that already, didn't you?"

I nodded. The police had been insistent on that. Luckily for me, everyone has cellphones so I usually ask the victims to lend me their phones.

"Well, you can't keep relying on the people you save having intact phones," she explained, "how new are you to this business? Wait, no, I can guess. A week, right? You started a week ago. But you've been planning it for a while longer," she said, beginning to pace, tapping her lower lip as she did. "What's your username on PHO? You don't even have a cape name yet, but that's okay, look, I'll message you. For now, though, the police are just about around the corner, so get ready to give a post-action report."

I nodded. "Why are you... well, being so helpful? I'm... okay, I'm sorry to say it like this, but usually, the victims are, you know, less than calm."

She gave me an almost vulpine smile. "You seem like a good girl," she said. "Don't worry about doing poorly your first few times out, everyone does. Even the Triumvirate probably started out getting their asses kicked by common thugs."

"Somehow I doubt that," I supplied.

If I had powers like Alexandria's, I don't think I would've had as much trouble as I do, since she's invulnerable, can fly and can lift several tons. My power is like a toolbox, I need to find the right tool for each situation. Similar to Legend, I think.

She laughed. It was a nice laugh. "Don't be so pessimistic. Look, you're not doing so bad, are you? I mean, yeah, you got banged up a little, but you probably stopped them from selling me into sex slavery! So cheer up. When you're at the bottom, the only way you can go is up, right?" she asked.

"I guess."

It's not that comforting a thought, but goddammit, she's trying, and she really shouldn't even have to do that.

"Uhm... thank you for trying to cheer me up," I said.

And I was honest about it.

"Think nothing of it," she said. "I think you'll be going places, and if I can play a part in that, all the better."

I smiled at her. I can tell that she's being genuine, and it fills me with warmth to think that there are people out there who think I'm worth something.


	4. 1-4 Crystalization

**Frostbite**

* * *

Summary: Winter raged around Taylor, who was sealed in her locker at freezing temperatures. The cold doesn't bother her anyway.

* * *

 **1.4 Crystalization**

I received the private message the next morning, while I was in class.

It was simple.

 _How's the arm, hero?_

I wondered how she had gotten my username. CleverGrl95 was pretty generic. So generic that the only thing that made it even remotely unique was how generic it was. I had chosen it for that purpose alone. Also because 'CleverGirl94' was taken. Also I'd just watched Jurassic Park with my dad. Dinosaurs are cool. I really envy Aleph's entertainment industry.

I sent her a reply, wondering how she got my username, and telling her that my arm was fine. It wasn't, it still hurt, but the bullet had lost enough force against my shield and armor that it'd only poked my skin instead of digging into or through my arm. The impact, however, was still enough that the doctor advised me to keep weight off of it. He'd even recommended a sling for a week or two. It was a nasty bruise and a somewhat aching bone, but at least I could confirm that my armor is almost bulletproof.

Against small caliber gunfire anyway.

Strengthening it a bit would probably make it bulletproof, but I'm not sure I can without making it much thicker.

He reply brought me out of my musings.

 _Nevermind that, I've got my means. I want to help you._

I frowned. Help me how? While she worked on her reply, I browsed some threads on PHO, but there was nothing too interesting. There were rumor posts floating about of a new vigilante, but it seems like my ever-changing costume, a result of experimenting with my armor and what clothes I wear beneath it, kept people wonering what was going on.

 _You're really a newbie at all of this. I'm not. I can help you get started properly._

I asked what the catch was.

 _Nothing so much a catch as it is a side effect. Like I said, you're a good girl. Being in your good graces is its own reward, especially if you don't forget the one who set you up for success!_

I wish she would stop using shorthand and started using proper punctuation like a normal human being. It took me a minute to parse that message into something legible that my brain wasn't tumoring itself while trying to decipher it. But I think it might be rude to say that. So I'll just answer honestly... And I'm glad she's being honest about her intentions.

It's a bit refreshing, and... I think I can actually get used to being 'used' like this. It's more of a symbiotic partnership than anything else. I know she's using me - she wants to be in a hero's good graces, and I want someone who can help.

She seemed smart when I met her, and honestly, I kind of think she was more than a bit badass when she refused to be intimiated by four thugs with weapons. After all, she doesn't have powers that make fighting them easier, and she seemed prepared to do as much, given the taser she' had. Granted, she'd been walking around ABB territory at night, so she couldn't be THAT smart, but still...

 _Place and time_?

Her question was somewhat surprising. It seemed like she already knew I would say yes. I didn't get a feeling of arrogance out of her. Smugness, yes, plenty, surprising in that situation, but still... I told her I hadn't said yes yet.

It took her only a few moments to reply, as if she'd been expecting that.

 _I know._

I frowned. I wondered how much she knew, indeed.

 _All the things._

Huh. I hadn't even hit send yet. Am I talking to a precog? It'd explain why she was out that night - she knew she'd be saved. Does it count as a setup?

 _I know what you're thinking and no, not a precog. You're just easy to read._

I frowned.

 _Didn't mean it as an insult. Most people are, once you figure out what makes them tick, hero._

Shaking my head, I sighed. There was no point in getting angry at her when she was trying to help me. At least, she's proven that she's smart enough to scare me a bit. I'm a bit afraid that she can figure out my identity if she's, like, Sherlock Holmes levels of intuitive, but even so... this girl is smart. She can help me.

There's only so much I can do by myself. There's a lot I just don't know about the whole 'being a cape' business. I've been going out for a week and while I've avoided cape fights, mostly because I've not really gotten close to any villainous cape, I am not arrogant enough to think I was doing all that well. I think I'm doing mostly okay, but there's a bunch of stuff I haven't fixed, that I don't know how to fix. And... an outside perspective on my powers would be good, right?

It's like how you get someone as a sounding board who has no idea what you're talking about so when you explain it to them, you think in different angles and such that winds up helping broaden your own understanding of the topic. I still recall mom saying as much when she said that she learned something new every time she taught a topic she already knew, no matter how well she knew it.

Plus... I can't deny that having contact with someone my age, or around my age anyway, who's not insulting and belittling me at every turn is something I've been starving for.

 _So?_

Her question was unstated, it was just the question mark, but I could still guess what she was going for. I hope. I gave her a location. It wasn't far off from dad's workplace. It was close to the border between Merchant and ABB territory. Not many people went there, most thinking it unsafe because of the overlapping gang presence, but since both gangs were constantly at each other's throats, they usually left civilians alone. Hard to shake someone to make the pennies drop from their pockets when you have to constantly look back to make sure a druggie or asian wasn't looking to stab your back.

I thought of meeting during the day, but I found the idea to be somewhat dangerous. After all, I would be going in costume, and capes meeting with civilians wasn't something that would pass by without anyone being the wiser. In the end, I decided on a much later time.

 _Sounds good. I'll be with a tall and muscular black boy in leather. I'll be wearing purple. Don't worry, hero, my companion is trustworthy, but a young girl alone on the streets at night is just asking for trouble._

I snorted. Hadn't she been doing exactly that, earlier?

Still, I sent confirmation of my acceptance. Even if she came with a thug... I'm not afraid. I don't think I should be, anyway - I saved her from sexual slavery, didn't I? She's probably still spooked from that, even if she didn't show it at the time. Yeah, it's probably just that, and not a trap.

And even if it was...

I'm going in full costume, but I'll check my six just in case.

 _Excellent. Have fun at school, hero._

As soon as she said that, I frowned. How did she know?

I... guess she could assume, since, it's school hours and I'm a teenaged girl, but still...

There was no point in dwelling. Mrs. Knott was explaining something to the rest of the class. Being in the advanced track meant I could slack off, somewhat, since even the basic programming assignments she gave us were relatively easy. Especially considering we'd spent most of last year getting acquainted with the tools we'd use to do so.

I noticed, then, that my school email account was filled to the brim, metaphorically speaking anyway, with hate mail. I didn't react overly much. Honestly, I didn't even need to read them, it was just inconvenient. I could open a new one. I'd had several over the years. But then again... I don't really care all that much. I left it as it was and concentrated on completing the assignment I'd blown off for PHO.

The rest of the class learned the basics while I played Oregon Trail.

If nothing else, I can say that I have no worse nemesis than fucking Dysentery.

As I left the class, I met the Bitch Trio for lunch. I thought back to my talk with Gladly. He had, apparently, been looking for me to defend myself.

For a moment, I considered doing so, grabbing Emma by the hair and slamming her head against the wall until she left an indent or her face was flat.

But thankfully, the cold still works and I can take a deep breath. I can't relax, no, I can still feel the anger coiling in my stomach, but I can think, and that's much, much better than exploding in fiery, burning rage like some tv show hero. That would only fuck me and give them the moral highground.

"Hey there Taylor, it's so nice to see you," Emma said, her tone overly sweet. "Oh, wait, no, it isn't, but looking at you does lift my self esteem, I mean, even my bad hair days I don't look half as bad."

Really?

"Well, at least she doesn't smell like garbage for a chance, even if she looks like it," tithered Madison, giving a girlish giggle at her own joke.

The weird thing, though, was that Sophia was hanging back and not saying anything. She'd been surprisingly quiet regarding me since January. I am wondering why. Last time they were quiet, I triggered, so I'm wondering what they have in mind. "The hell you're looking at?" Sophia asked, almost growling.

Apparently I'd been staring. I frowned slightly.

"Shit, I think she might like you, Soph," Madison said, looking towards her with a sort of smug self satisfaction that I didn't think fit her dumb cherub face.

"Hah, as if," Sophia said, shaking her head.

"Well, no boy's ever gonna touch her, so might as well try the girls, huh?" Emma commented, turning back to me. "Well, not that any girl would ever want to touch you either, but, you know, it's the principle of the thing," she said, laughing at her own joke. People had gathered around us - this was common - to laugh at her taunting and jokes.

I raised one eyebrow. "Hm, that's funny. I can think of at least one girl who would and did," I said. Well, she's been using our past together to hurt me, so turnabout is fair play, right? Besides, I will not do anything but be factual and truthful. Heroes are honest, and omitting information is dishonest, and this isn't a flimsy justification at all!

Emma almost flinched, and the others looked amused, as if they thought I was lying, but before Emma could interject, I pressed on.

"After all, I'm fairly sure we were each other's first kiss," I said, simply. "After you saw your sister making out with her boyfriend and got all curious about what it was like," I offered. "And hey, at least you didn't try to grope me like she groped him."

"Y-You, that was- I was-" Emma sputtered, almost as if she hadn't expected I'd ever talk back to her.

"It was nice," I admitted, freely. "Even back then you were a really good kisser, you know?" I said, conversationally.

"Keep dreaming, Hebert!" Madison crowed.

I laughed a bit at her denial. Many others were echoing it. Emma, pointedly, was not. Sophia looked surprised, but I can see her calculating, probably thinking of a way to get me back. I don't care. "I did, they were nice dreams. That was back when I was sleeping over at her house since I was grieving my mother and all."

At this, the petite girl seemed to grab hold of something and straightened up in triumph. "Yeah, like when Emma told us you spent a whole week just crying yourself to sleep, right?"

That should've hurt. It did hurt. But I was on a roll, and my emotions were clamped down with an iceberg as the lock. Like hell I'm letting my anger get the better of me and ruin this moment. "Yep. Because loving my mom and being sad that she died in a senseless accident is totally something I should be ashamed about, no doubt, for sure," I said, nodding my head in turn with my own affirmations.

It seemed that people just then got the message of what Madison was actually saying. Grieving for your parents is bad. And it was evident that Madison herself only then realized the content of her taunt was not exactly something that you wanted to be caught saying in public.

The silence was broken by laughter. Of all people, Sophia Hess was laughing. "Well, well, well, Hebert, that was impressive," she said. "But do you honestly think that because you finally got a hold of yourself that you're anything more than what you've always been?"

"Oh?" I asked, turning my gaze towards her. Let's see what she's got. "And what am I, in your opinion?" I asked.

"It's not opinion, it's fact, Hebert. You're a worm, always have been, always will be. You're a worm, and your place is beneath us," she said, glaring at me. I could punch her in the face. I could call my ice and make her into a popsicle. I could make a throne right here and now, a crown and royal scepter, and show her how far beneath me she was.

I could show her that she was no more and no better than the scum I helped put behind bars.

But that same cold washed over me time and again, and the raging flame that would've demanded I apply violence to her was doused. Instead, crystallized fury took its place. A gigantic glacier. A front of ice that advanced, slowly but surely, eroding everything in its path. Unstoppable. Predictable, but unstoppable.

Sophia Hess thinks I am a worm.

"I am not," I said, simply.

"Yes, you are," she insisted. "You are weak and pathetic. You're spineless. You're even worse than the prey that a predator feasts on, you're the prey of the prey," she said, her eyes narrowing. She was letting her anger get the better of her, I realized, while mine was merely helping me focus, guiding my actions only in their intent, not in their execution.

"Is that what you think, Sophia? You think that I'm beneath you?" I asked.

"You are," she repeated. "That's all there is to it."

I smiled. "You know that's how animals think, right?" I asked.

She grit her teeth. "Are you calling me an animal?"

"Of course not," I said, taking a step and making my stance clear. Not in surrender, not in placation, but simply giving her an easier target to show her that I do not fear her. Not anymore. I've met a gun face to barrel. Sophia Hess is just not intimidating enough. "No, I'm asking why you think like one."

She took a step towards me, trying to cow me. "You bitch-"

Good luck with that. What are you gonna do, punch me? It's not like people bigger and stronger than you haven't done that already. "So what are you gonna do, hit me? Because I challenged you intellectually? You know that's admitting defeat, right?"

She grabbed me by my shirt and lifted me up slightly. I barely had to shift my feet, I'm pretty tall after all. "I don't fucking lose," She growled into my face.

"But if you punch me like you want to, right now, you lose and I win. You will give me exactly what I want. So come on. Do it. Prove me that I'm right. Show me that you think like an animal, Sophia, right here, right now, for everyone to see. Show everyone how weak you really are."

She growled and reared her fist back.

Then she let her fist fall, but she was still clenching it tightly. It would only take one more push, and then I win.

"Coward," I said.

I almost saw stars when she decked me across the face, but by the time I hit the ground, I was laughing. I was laughing almost hysterically. She's got a right hook like a freight train, that's for sure, but fuck this is exhilarating.

I won.

Overwhelmingly, I won. She's pissed, she's downright furious - she's upset as shit, and I'm sitting here, laughing, because I can't contain my joy, as it all bubbles up to the surface. The bubble has popped, and I can't stop laughing, even as she grabs me by the shirt again and shakes me in place. For a moment, it's all I can do, but then I finally calm as she lifts me and puts me against the wall.

"Damn you're fucking strong," I said, wincing as I tasted blood.

"You're backpedaling now, you fucking worm!?" she snarled.

"Of course not," I said. "Why backpedal when I've already won?"

"I'm not the one with loose teeth," she said, smirking at me.

"I'm not the one exposed for what she really is in front of everyone," I replied, cheekily, ignoring the pain smiling brought.

She growled, losing her temper again, and struck me across the face. A lighter blow this time. "Shut up!" she shouted.

"I don't think I will," I said, narrowing my eyes at her. "I'm sick of your shit, Sophia. I've been taking it for far too long."

"So says the coward that won't fight back!" she shouted, pulling me back and slamming me against the wall, causing me to wince.

"Like I said, I don't need to fight back. I've already won, Sophia," I repeated. She growled. Every time I remark on how she 'lost', she seems to get even angrier. I've never been good at digging in sore spots, but being able to keep myself 'cool' was proving to be invaluable in this regard. "And every time you hit me, you compound my victory."

"The fuck are you talking about!?" she screamed.

"Every shout, every insult, every punch - it all shows a little of what you really are, Sophia. And I can see it clearly now. I can see you for what you are, an so can everybody here," I explained. "You think you're big. You think you're all that. You think you're strong," I said, glaring at her.

She snarled and threw me, I landed on a heap on the floor and felt every one of my muscles and bones protest. Exhaustion and lingering aches all flared, reminding me of last week's activities. That helped me keep my temper cool, reminding myself of how much bigger than her I was, and how much bigger I could be. I'm a hero. I save people.

She's just an animal.

"I'm a predator, you're prey, learn your goddamn place!" she shouted as she stomped towards me.

"You think you're a predator, Sophia, but you're just delusional prey!" I said, standing up as she stomped towards me. "I can se- urk!"

She punched me in the stomach and then in the face. I think she might have busted my nose. Then she pushed me back and I fell to the ground.

I laughed a bit, snorting blood out of my nose. "I can see your insecurities right now. How it's all eating at you," I said.

She growled, but didn't come towards me.

"I can see it, that's why you're attacking me. Because I'm poking at each and every one of them. Hell, that's why you've always been against me, isn't it? Because my existence offends you on a deep level. You could always tell, I imagine. You always knew that deep within, I was stronger than you, and you couldn't stand it. That's why," I said, dragging myself to a somewhat sitting up position. "I challenge your very philosophy, don't I? Because I'm not like you. I'm not so weak that I need to put somebody else down just to feel better about myself. And that's the crux of it. You know you're lesser, that's why you're trying to put me down. But it's not working, Sophia, it's never worked, because you are nothing to me, never have been. I've never cared about you, even slightly. All of the bullying, all of the insults, shoves and pushes, all that you've ever done to me, amounts to absolutely zero. Zilch. Nada. And the thought of it is your worst nightmare, because you know it's true. You, Sophia Hess, hate me because I'm the proof that you. Are. Worthless."

"Shut the hell up you fucking BITCH!" she jumped at me and put her hands around my neck, squeezing. I grit my teeth, grabbing at her arms, but it was useless. She's stronger than me.

I was still under the effects of the cold. I'm not worried. I'm not afraid.

I know what's going to happen next.

Someone tackled Sophia, and I gasped for breath. She was wrestled to the ground by a large boy.

"SOMEBODY CALL THE FUCKING COPS ALREADY!" the boy shouted, as frantic scrambling began.


	5. 1-5 Crystalization

**Frostbite**

* * *

Summary: Winter raged around Taylor, who was sealed in her locker at freezing temperatures. The cold doesn't bother her anyway.

* * *

 **1.5 Crystalization**

Sophia's in trouble.

Sophia Hess, track star and, if I had to make a guess, Blackwell's favorite bitch student, is in trouble, and for once, it's not something she can oh so easily slip out of. Everything hurts, and she cleaned my clock so to speak, but goddamn is every little bit of pain worth it just to see her getting manhandled by a couple of boys who leapt up in my defense.

It's nice to see chivalry's not dead. A couple of more senior students had apparently seen her choking me and had their fill of it, because as soon as the one boy tackled her and she began trying to throw him off herself, they quickly rushed into motion, detaining her quickly and easily. Strong as she was, she couldn't throw off several boys larger and heavier than her.

I massaged my sore neck and winced. "Fucking ape," someone said, and I saw a boy offer me a hand. "That shit was amazing, girl."

He was dark of hair, but fair of skin, and his hair was cut short, very short. In fact, I could guess that he had stopped just short of taking a razor to his head. I can already guess what affiliations he has, and the reason why they jumped up on Sophia so eagerly. I don't need to see the E88 tattoos on him to know. I shook my head at him and tried to sit up. "I don't feel so well," I muttered.

My vision was swimming a bit, I realized, but it would clear up soon enough, I was just disoriented from the hits. "Oh," he said, getting the message that I really didn't want to stand up.

It's part that, and part that I don't want to be seen shaking hands with a proto-skinhead. Much as I hate this one particular black girl, I'm not about to start hating an entire color of the spectrum - actually I recall Black isn't a color, but what the hell - for it. I took a deep breath, and realized how much breathing hurt, and how much damage Sophia had done in so little a time.

I'd really underestimated just how strong she actually is! I've seen men double her size that couldn't hit anywhere near as hard. If this is the difference running can make, shit, I need to start running track and field myself.

"What, exactly, is going on here?" the voice of the principal thundered. "Unhand that student at once!" she ordered.

If Gladly was an incompetent asshole, then I'm fairly sure this woman is the real deal, she's just flat out corrupt. How, exactly, I don't know, but I would bet my soul that Sophia bought her somehow. Maybe she had Emma's lawyer dad do it. Emma's been enamored with her for a while, and if I know Alan Barnes, and I do, the man is wrapped around his daughter's finger and is probably not even aware of it.

I'd been her friend long enough to realize she could get away with anything by running it through her father first, as he never said no and took the blame when her mother got angry over something stupid we did, since he'd allowed it.

"No fucking way, this bitch was trying to kill her!" one of the boys holding Sophia down said.

Blackwell seemed nervous. Gotcha bitch, I've got witnesses now. "All I see is three boys holding down a girl - and don't think I don't know your particular... leanings," she said, her distaste clear and obvious.

Eat a bag of dicks, Blackwell. "Well it's in her name," the guy who I now realized was holding me in a sitting position said, "ain't surprised she's a race traitor," he muttered.

I laughed a bit. The whole situation was absurd - she had witnesses screaming at her now, and I've got the goddamn Empire 88 on my fucking side. This is the most surreal moment in my life. Admittedly, I don't want any of this shit right now, but I'll still enjoy what I can about it. Namely, seeing Blackwell and Sophia Hess with the students against them. Even Emma and Madison were catching some flak for trying to stand up for Sophia. Quickly enough, though, they realized that for once, the public was against them. Madison folded like a stack of cards and ran off, while Emma looked smaller than I'd ever seen her, and I remember her when we were both fucking tiny, so that's got to mean something.

"Is the police here yet? I think I might need an ambulance," I said. Of ourse, with my broken nose, it sounded nothing like that, but the people around me understood. Probably. I'm lisping pretty bad. It was more like "iff de pobis eer jet", but hey, I'm trying and that's got to mean something. I just really wish I could stay upright.

"Enough! Silence! These events will be reviewed, but right now, you need to release Miss Hess and the affected parties need to head with me to my office so we can-"

Oh hell no. Not letting you this time. "So you can sweep it under the rug and paint me as the aggressor?" I asked, my vision clearing. "Like you've done every other time they've done something to me? Well, I've got witnesses now! And I'm pretty sure at least one of them caught her beating the crap out of me, cellphones have cameras!" I added, because no way in hell is there a chance that none of them caught the footage of someone else getting stomped.

I'm somewhat angry that my beatdown will be on Youtube today, with people laughing at how much I got my teeth kicked in, metaphorically speaking, but it's goddamn useful right now, and I can't discount it.

"Yes, that will be confiscated, as well-"

"Police's here!" somebody said.

Two policemen, a man and a woman, came walking in, directed by a student, while a third walked behind them, fiddling with his equipment as he did. "Over here," the student said, "there's the scene, officer!"

The woman nodded. "Thank you," she said, before turning to us. "Now, can anyone explain to us what exactly happened here?" she asked.

"Gladly, officer," one of the students holding Sophia down said. "This bitch," he began, as Sophia trashed at the descriptor, "went fucking nuts and tried to beat the shit out of that girl over there. She was pretty succesful until we stepped in."

"Well isn't this one fine mess," the male police officer said, shaking his head. "Barry, get your ass over here, we need you taking picture evidence. Say, miss, you wouldn't mind us taking a few pictures of your bruises, would you? It's really important for evidence, you see."

I nodded. He didn't need to be that patronizing, but hey, fuck it, they're trying to help at least.

"You've got no idea who you're fucking with," Sophia hissed.

"Well, no I don't, miss," the unnamed male officer said, crouching down next to her. "Mind enlightening me?"

She suddenly went silent, as if she'd realized she was making a mistake. Apparently, Sophia's the kind that when cops come around, she clamps down and goes full silent.

This looks good, I think. Okay. It should go about the best way right around now. I think I can take a nap now, which is good, because I'm suddenly super tired, and my eyes are super heavy. I'll only rest them for a minute...

...

I realize I fell asleep... or rather passed out... because when I wake up, I can see the infirmary. I've been here before. I've had to visit when Sophia tripped me down the stairs. The school nurse never pressed too deep when I told her I tripped, which I was thankful for. Because when I told her I had been tripped instead, she took note of it but nothing ever happened. Just about every member of the faculty at this school has been unbelievably awful at their jobs for a long time, and I sure hope that they finally have to deal with their own actions now that the police have gotten involved.

"Nice to see you're awake, Taylor. You've been out of it for a couple of minutes. Don't worry about your nose, it wasn't broken, just knocked slightly out of place," the nurse said. "I've also taken the liberty to clean you up, though your clothes are another thing. I can't do much about that, sorry," he added.

Yes, the nurse is male. The female nurse we had before had left for greener, less infested with gangs, pastures. I mumbled something not even I understood while he grunted in approval.

"Now, breathe through your nose for me, would you?" he asked, and I did. I winced, it hurt a bit, and noticed that blood and snot flowed from my nose, which he wiped with a napkin. "Okay, you're probably going to be sneezing blood for a day or so, and you'll be sore, but you have no serious injuries. We feared you might have a concussion, but you seem perfectly lucid, and you didn't take harsh hits to the back of the head, so it's likely that you passed out when the adrenaline ran out and the pain caught up to you all at once. Don't worry, even the strongest can faint at the worst of times," he said, giving me a smile.

It's hilarious how he can act like he's such a good guy when he knew that Sophia was a colossal bitch targetting me and didn't care before.

I took a deep breath. "Has my father been called?"

"Yes," he said. "We told him about the incident, and how you passed out, as well as how we feared you might have a concussion. He was working, but he did say he'd come pick you up if you wanted him to, and to keep him posted if we needed to make a hospital visit."

I nodded. Dad had been working more and more since January. I'm not sure what he was trying to do, it was as if he was trying to make up for something, but I've got no idea what he's achieving by being more out of the house than he was in it.

"I'd like for you to remain here for a couple more minutes, just in case, and if everything's okay, we'll call your father and we'll see about getting you home."

I nodded. I was feeling pretty up to going home. Even with all that had happened, even if I feel like shit because of what Sophia did, I still have one thing to look for ward to that cheers me up a bit.

After all, I've got a friend now, and the absolute last thing I want to do is start our new friendship on the wrong foot by showing up late to our first meeting that wasn't also a mugging!

"Please call my father - he'll be a while so you'll get time to observe me or whatever," I said. "I just... I just wanna go home."

"I get the feeling," he said. "Don't worry - they've got enough witnesses and video footage of the incident that Blackwell won't be able to save her from this one, since the police are involved. Jesus Christ," he said, shaking his head.

I'm beginning to think that they're using Blackwell to deflect blame, themselves. 'Oh, it was the principal's ruling, I couldn't do anything about it!'

I frowned. What, couldn't you have taken it directly to the police yourself? By the time we'd hit a year of bullying campaign, I think there was enough compiled shit to make a case against her. I was pulled out of my thoughts when he handed me the phone, and I nodded, pretending gratefulness, as I dialed the number of dad's office at work.

He picked up on the third ring. "Daniel Hebert, Dockworkers'-"

"Hello dad," I said, interrupting his canned speech.

"Taylor! Taylor, are you ok?!" he nearly shouted, and I can feel his frayed nerves, almost hear the relief in his voice. It's funny like that, I guess.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I said, shaking my head a bit. "I'm... better than okay, really. Blackwell can't cover this up like she did the locker. The police are already involved. There's witnesses - people form other years who don't care about Emma or Sophia or Madison, there's video going around. I'm better than okay, dad."

"But, Taylor - they told me she might've given you a concussion!" he was desperate, I could tell, for me to deny the extent of my injuries.

"She hits like a freight train," I admitted, freely, "but it's okay. I can bear a little pain, especially when I know that she'll finally face the consequences of her actions. For now, though, I think I just want to lie down a while," I said. "Can you come pick me up and take me home? I... don't think I'm up for taking the bus right now. I mean, I can wait, I'll probably be okay in a few minutes, but..."

"Say no more," he said. "I've got nothing super important for today anyway, I'll be right over."

I smiled. He probably did have something important he was attending to, but it warms me up inside to know he put me first, that he left everything else and came rushing to get me, even though I know I'm just being selfish in wanting to go home.

"Now, Taylor, remember that the Police will be wanting to contact you over this incident, we gave them your father's contact numbers just in case, but still, make yourself available. It can only help," the nurse said.

I nodded. Useless though he might have been in recent memory, he did have enough of an education to be helpful at a time like this.

For now, though, I'll just concentrate on savoring the fallout of how Sophia's temper finally blew in her fucking face, thanks to the power that I alone possess. Even if it didn't give me the satisfaction of clubbing some suckers with ice, at least I'll always have this memory, of when my power helped me put Sophia Hess, the one obsessed with the pecking order, into the place she deserved.

She thought I was lower than dirt, but it was the other way around, she's lower than dirt, I'm more right now than she'll ever be.

My hand clenched into a fist and I balled up the off-white sheets below me, victims of many washes.

For a moment, I considered my former friend. I considered Emma. I considered - wondered, if this would finally show her that she had made the wrong choice, when she declared she'd outgrown me, when she decided to pick on me, when she decided I was the 'prey' that she had to put down to make herself feel superior, just like Sophia.

Would she?

Would she come crawling right back to me, apologizing every way, talking about how misguided she was, how wrong she was, how stupid she was...

The fabric in my hand was frozen. It took me a while to notice it, but when I did, I could do little but attempt to vanish it, somewhat unsuccesfully, until I let the flames of my temper be consumed by the crushing cold of my power, at which point it melted, leaving a small wet stain.

I took a deep breath.

If she comes back... Well, I'd told Gladly I was beyond her, that I was past her... and I will be.

When, if, she comes back, I'll tell her how things stand between us.

The Emma Barnes I knew had died long ago, and I would make that fact painfully clear to her.


	6. 1-6 Crystalization

**Frostbite**

* * *

Summary: Winter raged around Taylor, who was sealed in her locker at freezing temperatures. The cold doesn't bother her anyway.

* * *

 **1.6 Crystalization**

Dad drove me home mostly in silence, but I could see the emotion churning in him. He didn't know how to react, what to say, how to say it - I don't need to be a detective to read him like an open book. I've known him too long, I'd guess, and he's never been good at hiding his emotions to begin with. Dad is an honest sort, and I respect that about him.

But honestly, he doesn't have to feel THAT bad over this one.

I mean, technically, I did it to myself. The moment we got home, he motioned for me to sit with him at the table. "Taylor... why didn't you tell me they were back to-"

I laughed a bit. "I know where you're going, dad," I began, "and you don't have to worry. I brought this upon myself today," I said, bringing a hand to my neck and checking the bruises there. Shit that stings, but it's a good sting, it tells me of a job well done. I'm somewhat worried she might've left internal damage somewhere, but I guess nobody cared enough to check. Should probably go to the hospital at some point.

"Taylor, nothing you could've done would've justified this response, you don't have to-"

Oh, oh my god, he's trying to talk to me as if I were some sort of battered housewife, or as if I was trying to minimize the bullying! It's almost funny... it IS funny, actually, and laughter bubbles out of me. Sorry, dad, but today has been too much of a good day and I think I might be high because of it. High on life. "No, you don't get what I mean, I mean that I deliberately provoked Sophia today," I said, "so she'd beat the crap out of me, in public, where everyone could see, and leave highly visible bruises that Blackwell couldn't ignore. Okay, so her strangling me was not part of the plan, and neither was the assist by the Empire, but hey, if it works, don't knock it," I said, giving him a wide smile. "I kicked her ass, dad."

He was confused. "Wait, what? Empire? Taylor, you're not in a gang are you?" he asked.

"Oh, hell no," I said, "at least not the racist skinheads. If we had a gang of people who hunt other gangbangers, maybe, but I want to be a hero some day, dad, being in a gang wouldn't help," I said. "You've heard about Purity, right? That's the example I use for why I would never be in a gang. I mean, not even I believe she's really turned over a new leaf, and I'm trying to use her as an example of turncoats!"

He nodded. "Okay, so there's that, but... why would you let, no, make her beat you up like this?"

"Because now I've got proof of her bullying, dad. Blackwell always said there was no proof, that everything was just my word and it was against theirs, well, look at it now, dad. I've got witnesses, I've got video proof, I've got the bruises on my body - Sophia Hess is fucked, dad," I said, satisfaction coloring my tone, "and I could not be happier to see her gone. She tried to choke me, so she's gonna face criminal charges for sure. I'm finally free of her, dad. She's gone, forever."

And a plan is forming on how to deal with her best friend, starting with the Sophia-is-a-criminal angle.

Alan Barnes is wrapped around his little girl's every finger, not just her pinky, but I can actually use that to my advantage. He's the sort of overprotective-yet-overindulgent parent that I think I can manipulate in my favor. I guess I can call Gladly a test run, pretend I totally planned that one as a test of what I'm going to do with Alan Barnes if I ever tell anyone about this.

"Okay, I get it," Dad said, suddenly. "I know this tactic, your mother used to be very fond of it in college, plus, I can recall an old movie quote about it," he said.

Dad's a bit of a geek. Apparently because mom liked to watch movie adaptations of her books to riff on them and all the differences and, in her opinion, mistakes they had compared to the books. Her favorite had always been the Stephen King movies and miniseries... miniserieses? Miniseriales? This is depressing, she would've known the right word, dammit.

"If you strike me down I shall become something more powerful than you can possibly imagine," he said, his voice solemn and serious, as he closed his eyes and looked at me.

I do recall that, I can't remember from where, but I know I've heard that before.

"She used it back when she was a radical feminist in college, you know," he explained, leaning back a bit. "It's a simple idea. You hold the moral high ground by being the one refusing to take matters into a violent course. Basically, you win because the other person cannot defeat your argument and tries to silence it with violence."

"That's the idea," I said, nodding in approval.

He smiled. His smile was tired and sad and joyful all at once. "You're so much like her, little owl, that sometimes I can't stand it," he admitted. "Just... just promise me one thing," he said.

I nodded, prompting him to continue.

"Just promise me that you'll take better care of yourself than we ever did. I know you're young, Taylor, but still... You're smarter than us. Than both of us. Don't throw it all away, okay? You've got a bright future ahead of you," he said.

I couldn't say much. I can't say I won't do something incredibly dangerous and stupid. I couldn't do that, because I couldn't lie to my dad's face. So I said nothing instead, and merely nodded in a noncommital way. It seemed to be enough for him, as he sighed and leaned back.

"Uh, dad, I'm meeting with a couple of friends by the boardwalk," I said, all of a sudden.

"Your friends, huh," he said, frowning a bit.

I nodded.

"I'd like to meet those friends of yours some day," he said. He was suspicious, I could tell - but I couldn't tell if he was suspicious of them or me. I... I'm not sure I want to know which. "But for now... I think you need to relax as much as I do. I haven't been able to calm my nerves since I got the news."

"Why don't we both go out and meet back up for dinner over at the boardwalk?" I asked. "I can be with my friends until late enough, and we'll be close enough that I should be able to meet up with you so we can go for dinner outside today. You know, to celebrate me getting the police to pounce on one of my bullies."

He laughed. "Okay, I suppose that's cause for celebration," he admitted. "I can gather a few of the guys for a few drinks and maybe a game over at a bar. I don't know which, honestly it's been a while since I've been to any, but hey, I'm sure they'll know where to go," he said, shaking his head. "It's a plan, then. Just... take care of yourself, okay? I know you're smart, kiddo, so put that brain to use!"

I nodded, smiling brightly and widely as I could. Everything's working out, I'm on top of the world! "Don't worry, dad, I'm going in with all preparations ready," I explained.

Okay, so not ALL preparations, but it's enough for him.

Deciding not to waste time on frivolities, I told dad that I still had a few minutes before the agreed time for meetup. It was, after all, a preorganized meeting, and I hadn't planned on getting home early from school, even if it hadn't been -that- early. What dad didn't know wast that there were only minutes of difference between the time I set the meeting up and when I screwed up the day's schedule, with a hand or two from Sophia.

As it is, I went into my room and decided to work on braiding my hair. It is not as easy as I thought it would be. I've been taking care of my hair for a very long time, it's arguably the only, well, feminine part of me and it's always been my pride as a woman. I like my hair. But the fact that it's, well, distinctive of me is quite problematic. I thought of a braid as a way to hide its distinctiveness, to hide the fact that it's long and curly. The problem with that happens to be that braiding my hair is not a quick and easy process. Tying it back is easier, but it's not too difficult to recognize.

As it is, I did the best job I could, which is admittedly subpar, and changed into something a bit more fitting for my costume. Long sleeves and leggings, all in black. If I'm lucky, stains won't show on it, and it's not entirely uncommon to walk about dressed like that. True, girls at around this time of year usually had a couple more layers than I did, but they felt the cold and I did not. I can't explain that to most people, though, but I don't think I have anywhere to put any more layers on, and more importantly, I'm not sure it'd be comfortable to wear more stuff when my armor's gonna go over it.

I'm not super comfortable on clothing that shows off my lack of a figure, but I figured with the armor on top, nobody would notice it. It's a fact, but people still thought me a man. A man with an effeminate voice, but a man nonetheless. Hence the understated, but noticeable, swell of breasts on my chestpiece right now.

Even that was bigger than the actual breasts below them, but I've shrunk it down on the basis that it feels... dishonest to advertise a figure I don't have. Plus there's already enough extra padding from the snow on top that it was just uncomfortably shaped.

I stood in front of a mirror and tried to form my mask from my face instead of my hand. It took like a dozen and a half tries, but I finally did pull off an acceptable, if a bit simplistic, mask using only my face without helping shape the ice with my hands.

It's weird, I've gotten so used to channeling my power through my hands, using gestures to guide me, that I've forgotten I can do it with all of my body. Okay, so it's not as good as what I can do with my hands, but I need to exercise stuff like this so when the time comes, I can form my armor all at once, from my entire body, without having to run my hands over each part of the body.

For now, though, my armor has taken the shape of very stylized Knight's Armor. I've been looking into ways to cover my joints, and most of what I've found has been a bit difficult to reproduce, so for the time being, I've been looking to discretely cover my joints with decorations, such as covering my knees with wing-like designs that come up from my shin guards, and the same with my ankles on the ice that covered my shoes.

As soon as I saw everything was in order, with an armor much better than what I usually produced on the field, I checked the clock. I'd still arrive a bit early, even after taking my time, probably by ten or fifteen minutes, but arriving early would give me enough time to compose myself for the meeting, plus leaving early could make up for any eventuality I came across that would've made me late otherwise.

As I left through the back door and made a discrete getaway from the vicinity of my house, I began to wonder. How can I deal with the problem of mobility?

Ice is slippery, isn't it? As much as it can stick to things through creating a link from frozen water, my ice is very good at that, I can also have it not take in heat at all, so it's not cooling down anything around it, so it can't freeze water between itself and the surface it's on, making it super slippery instead. I've checked that thoroughly, I may or may not have had the recurrent thought of having Sophia, Madison and Emma slip all over the place with carefully placed ice, a lot...

I decided I might as well test that theory and used what I'd learned alongside... well, I can't deny that being Emma's friend hasn't been useful at times... alongside Emma, applying the same basic concepts behind ice skating, and slid forward. It's been a very long time since I last did any skating whatsover, because while it did work, I also lost my balance and landed flat on my ass.

It hurts, but I can put ice on it without the cold bothering me AND I've also discovered a potential form of quicker movement. Also fun. It's a lot of fun. I've found that, in general, using my power can be loads of fun. If I figure out how to use it right, anyway.

I got up, patted my backside and pointedly ignored the giggling from a passing child who was chastised by his mother, before trying again. I got a few feet farther then realized I don't know how to turn when a couple rounded the corner ahead of me. Fortunately, I can stop. Unfortunately, I stopped very poorly and wound up rolling against the sidewalk, much to the laugher of everyone around me, except the terrified teens who had caused me to fall.

Well, technically it's my fault, but I'm still angry, I should-

No, I should nothing, I thought to myself, letting the cold wash over me. It's not their fault, let it go Taylor, let it go. You have shit to do.

They seemed scared that they'd made a cape look like a jackass, so I need to assuage them that they're not in danger. "Is it too obvious that I'm new?" I asked.

"Kind of, yeah," the girl said. "You're kind of bad at that."

"Goddammit Sally, let's not provoke the cape!" her... what I assume to be her boyfriend anyway... hissed at her. I can assume they're not related because she's black and he's white. I have bad experiences with black girls, but this girl is nothing like Sophia. Mostly because even though she's a colossal bitch, and I'm straight, I can still admit that Sophia's kinda hot, while this girl is very mousy and kinda dumpy. Boy's not exactly Mr. Universe either.

"It's okay," I said, getting up. Falling to the ground when I've already got bruises all over my body is not fun. "I'll master it yet!" I said, getting myself pumped up as I did, portraying way more confidence in my abilities than I actually had.

"Oh, okay, uh... we'll be leaving now," the boy said.

"It's great to know there are more female heroes in Brockton Bay," the girl said. "Uh... you're a hero right?"

"Yeah! I'm an indie hero," I said, nodding and smiling at her.

"Cool, what's your cape name?" she asked.

"I don't have one yet, but I will, soon! I hope, anyway," I said.

"Well, if we didn't have Kid Win around, I'd suggest Kid Cool, but that might just be because I'm a nerd," she said, adjusting her coke bottle glasses. "Anyway, good luck, Kid Cool,"

I smiled and nodded. "Thanks, citizen! For now, I'll stick to trying to learn how to ice skate when I'm the ice instead of the other way around," I said, waving at them as they left, the girl waving enthusiastically while the boy seemed nervous still. "Well, that could've gone worse," I said. It could've gone better, but I'll take being presented as a goofball over being presented as a ball of anger and hate.

I'm trying to be the Anti-Sophia, basically, as my hero persona. I think it's working.

Finally, I was getting close to the small park where I'd arranged to meet with my new friend and what might be either a bodyguard or her boyfriend. Or maybe just a friend. Maybe. Anyway, the point is, this does feel like the beginning of something new. Like I'm walking into a whole different world. And it feels good. Even when I got my powers, my world hadn't changed that much.

Today really feels like the start of a new life for me, and I'm excited!


	7. 1-X Crystal Clear

**Frostbite**

* * *

Summary: Winter raged around Taylor, who was sealed in her locker at freezing temperatures. The cold doesn't bother her anyway.

* * *

 **1.X Crystal Clear**

Sarah Livsey, Lisa Wilbourn, Tattletale, Insight, All-Seeing-Eye, Informant, Oracle, Athena, Know-It-All, Goddess of Bullshit, The Gal In The Know, ActuallyASupervillain, Indentured Servant, you fucking bitch...

All names she'd worn. All names that would describe her. For the time being, she was Tattletale to most, Lisa to her team and You Fucking Bitch to her enemies. That suited her just fine. She liked the identity of Lisa, it'd taken a bit of time to set it up. She liked the mask of Tattletale, which had taken considerably less time and effort to set up. She was satisfied every time she provoked someone to the point they could only refer to her in an expletive-ladden rant.

Without a shadow of a doubt, her favorite pastime was screwing with people's heads. These days, she was mostly bullshitting with only a sprinkling of truth thrown in. She only needed to reel in a small bit of information with her power to get her actual mind working and crafting the bullshit jacket to her one bullet of truth.

This time, however, she had something different in mind to occupy her afternoon and evening. Namely, for this one time alone, and possibly sometime in the future again, she never discarded the possibility, she'd be the one building up, instead of tearing down.

Oh, don't think her a charitable sort, even for an instant. She was hardly one to feel charitable at the best of times, after all, and she was party to more dastardly plots than she could name, but she did have at least a degree of human empathy, and she wasn't so far gone that she could ignore people in need when they were literally right next to her.

Well, had been literally right next to her, for a few minutes, all that her power had required, anyway.

She'd set up an ambush for the ABB - she intended to hit some of their ground level operators by presenting herself - an attractive, if she did say so herself, and vulnerable, blonde young girl - as a target for them. She'd had Regent and Grue ready to intercept if needs came, and if things got really dicey, Bitch was at a shelter not too far, certainly close enough to be within a minute's ride of one of her dogs if it was large enough. She was in no real danger, and they'd hit one of the ABB's operations.

She wasn't sure how much money would be on site at first, but her power would allow her to find where they stashed the money they got from the skin trade before they were done with the place. Plus, there was a bit of a feel good element when they disrupted these kinds of operations, and it always lifted the team's spirit to know that while they were villains, they were a damn far sight above the true scum lurking in Brockton Bay.

Contrary to what Brian thought, she had not taken him along for protection. She knew she didn't need protection from her 'Hero'. After all, the girl wouldn't attack her, so long as she thought her a defenseless civilian. While she hadn't gotten a name, she'd gotten enough information to have a basic picture of who she was looking at.

A young girl, 15-16. She had faded and very slight bruises over most of her body, she had been training? No, crime fighting. She got them from criminals. The bruises were minor, her armor was protective, but the fact that she'd gotten so many meant that the armor was likely either a recent development entirely or she had been improving it a bit every time she noticed a flaw.

Her power continued feeding her information through that whole night as the girl fought.

Her Hero might not have noticed it, but Tattletale could see the potential of her Cryokinesis. Already by itself something of a rare power, certainly significantly less commonplace than its diametric opposite, pyrokinesis. As it was, the girl was using some very basic applications of it.

Creating layers of dense (more dense than would be physically possible, her power noted) ice for hard armor, snow for padding to muffle blunt attacks - learned, not an initial part of the design. Creating basic, easily usable weaponry such as her club, and the basic idea of a javelin - a long and pointy thrown weapon.

Tattletale could tell at a glance that the girl wasn't aware of how strong her telekinetic control over her ice was. If she did, she probably would be using her ice that way instead of wielding it. Likely had been experimenting on the defense side of it, possibly out of fear for her life or a naturally cautious disposition. Either way, Lisa approved - the strongest weapon in the world wouldn't do much good if a bullet to center mass, the easiest place to hit in the body, could put you out for the count. That was not even mentioning just how absurd the ability to freeze anything within an, admittedly short, range was.

What she didn't approve of was the neglect towards improving her own mobility and just how unprepared she was for the less publicly known and celebrated parts of being an independant or Protectorate-sponsored Hero.

But all of those could be fixed.

"Look sharp," Tattletale said, and Grue tensed.

Lisa and Brian, she reminded herself. They were out of costume. Not out of costume enough that they would be totally unprepared if the unexpected happened and things went really south - she could manipulate the girl, true, but if things went to shit and she attacked, Tattletale would not put up much of a fight even with a handgun, and if she went really berserk and lost control, she'd likely overcome the problem of Grue's darkness by just showering the area with her very lethal spears.

With a bright smile, Lisa turned to her visitor. "Hi there Hero," she said.

"Hello," she said. "Ah, uhm... I don't think I caught your name..?"

"I never threw it at you," Lisa said, smiling in a knowing way. "You know, it's polite to introduce yourself when asking for someone else's name."

"Ignore her, she can be like this sometimes," Brian said.

Lisa knew he'd react like this, this being why she brought him along. He had that kind of Charisma about him, and it helped smooth over situations that would otherwise be potential powder kegs simply by virtue of being his own self. Still, she pouted up at him. "Stop ruining my fun."

"My name's Brian, and this is Lisa," he said, giving her an odd glance.

He was wondering what her game was, she didn't need her power to tell her that. It could be incredibly redundant at times. "I was trying to make her come up with some lame cape name we could make fun of before helping her come up with a better one but fine, whatever, you go ahead and ruin this carefully constructed idea of how this conversation was going to go, it's not like I've been thinking about it all day or something," Lisa said, huffing and rolling her eyes.

Brian was unamused.

"Uh, guys, if you're gonna have a lover's quarrel, I can go and come back in a few minutes," she said

Lisa laughed. "No, it's nothing like that, he's not my type, though I wouldn't mind a ride on his bike, if you know what I'm saying," she said, wagging her eyebrows in extremely suggestive fashion.

Brian groaned. "And you're the one that complains about not being able to be in a relationship because men are all pigs," he lamented.

Of course, it was a slightly different version of the reason why she didn't date. Her power made it very not fun every time she tried. She'd even tried going over the other side, but whatever had possessed her to think that women might be different was clearly just screwing with her because it'd just been more of the same.

And even worse, Regent had pictures, so that made it doubly suck.

"Well, I don't really have a cape name anyway, so..." she explained.

"It's not that uncommon for new capes to have trouble with the name. Hell, the wards have it easy - a PR department picks their name and theme for them, most of the time. Sure, some get away with choosing their own, but most? Most get their name, theme and costume from the PRT's PR department," Lisa explained. "I don't think that's conductive to really developing your own cape identity, though. It's better that it comes organically."

"But what could it be? I mean, I guess I've got a lot of options since my theme's ice and all, but it makes it a bit more intimidating. Like, if I pick something lame when there are so many better options, I look doubly lame," Icey said, scratching the back of her head.

"You should test out a few, see how they sound to you," Brian said. "Sometimes, you just hit one that works quickly, othertimes, though..."

Lisa nodded. "It's a matter of trying until one fits. Like choosing bras when you don't know your own cup size."

"That's not a problem I have," Icey said, snorting.

Another insecurity to add to the folder, Lisa thought. Her power was already providing her a bit more information about the particularities of her complex about her small breast size, down to the thoughts of envy. "Okay, but you get the metaphor," Lisa said. "If it helps, think of the theme you want your armor to look like. You're going with some sort of medieval knight theme that I can see right now, so something along those lines..?"

"How about the Winter Knight?" Icey asked.

Grue shook his head. "I think that one's already taken."

Lisa laughed. "You're thinking of Winter Soldier, and he died two years ago anyway, that one's free. But... can I give you a bit of advice?"

"That's what I'm here for, so far you've been really helpful."

She was actually honest, even though the words could've been interpreted as sarcastic.

"I think you shouldn't have a Knightly theme, at least not right now and not in Brockton Bay," Lisa remarked.

Brian took a moment to catch on. "Oh. Right. Empire," he said. "Yeah, they've got a bit of a Nordic/medieval theme going on, I think. I know for a fact Kaiser goes around looking like a knight in full armor when he fights."

Ice Gal frowned. "Looking like the Nazis is bad, I get it, but when designing armor, well, you can't help looking a bit like them. Besides, I think their theme is more nordic than anything else."

"It is," Brian said. "I guess Winter Knight works if you really want it, but do you?"

"To be honest," Icey began, "I had actually thought about calling myself Ice Princess for a moment. I'm starting to get a bit tired about people confusing me for a guy, just because I don't have melons strapped to my chest."

"You'd think the hair would be a giveaway," Brian said, "but then again..."

Long hair wasn't that uncommon in Brockton Bay, on males as well. "Well, it's not terrible, but if you're gonna go that route, might as well be a Queen, right?" Lisa suggested. "Ice Princess is what I expect a twelve year old girl to call herself. I wouldn't begrudge it on Vista, but..."

"Yeah, I'm a bit too old to do the whole princess fantasy bit," Icey said. "then again, I never wanted to be a princess as a kid. I was the one who wanted to punch Endbringers in the face like Alexandria," she said, chuckling. "Queen it is then."

Brian laughed. "Well, now that you're older, and you've got powers, do you still dream of punching out endbringers?" he asked.

"Well, my power doesn't really seem well suited to doing that, to be honest, I don't think I can freeze them..." she muttered.

"That remains to be seen," Lisa said. "Your powers, you haven't really tested them, have you? I mean, all the stuff you've done so far is pretty basic, as far as I can tell..."

Icey seemed hesitant. "It's not for lack of trying. It's just - it's not that easy. It didn't come with a manual, you know?"

"Have you been that busy?" Lisa asked.

Brian was leaning back now, letting her work her Sparkly Thinker Bullshit Magic. There were many reasons why she liked him, and the fact that he was smart enough to know when to let her work was one of them.

"Kind of, I guess. I mean, you know, school, family, crime fighting, it all adds up... I've mostly been focusing on not dying, to be honest."

"Not a bad idea," Brian remarked. "Lisa told me your armor's bulletproof."

"Yeah... Though I've made the layers a bit thicker since last time. I thought it was enough, but the bullet could pierce the ice and nearly lodged itself on my arm. If I hadn't made a shield at the last moment, it likely would've gone into my arm," Ice said.

"Well, hero, it's not a bad idea to focus on surviving things first, but you really do need to work on your offensive too, at least a little. The abilities you have are already plenty, you just need to learn how to use them," Lisa said, swinging her legs and almost jumping off the bench. "We should probably meet up at some discrete location so we can help you train."

"How about the Boat Graveyard?" Ice asked.

Lisa smiled widely. She knew that would be her choice. She had pined the girl's father for a dockworker, and either an absent or nonexistent mother. "That sounds good," she said.

Brian nodded. "Do you mind if we bring along a few more friends? We'll make it a group outing, bring a few drinks and have some fun. We don't even need to bring a cooler, with you around," he joked.

It's not like they couldn't, but he was risking it a bit, Lisa mused, by exposing her to Bitch and Regent way too soon. Sure, Alec could be counted on to behave semi-decently with proper stimulus, but Rachel was a wild card at the best of times. Even Lisa had trouble predicting her behavior at the worst of times - and that was accounting for the amount of information she'd been able to glean over the long time they'd been together as a team.

She blushed slightly under Brian's attention. Good, she liked him - found him to be handsome and nice. Again, Lisa didn't need her power's help to figure that one out, but it was still helpful. More helpful was discovering the fact that the girl was also emotionally attached to Lisa herself already.

It was amazing how easily Lisa could ingratiate herself to people when she knew exactly what made them tick, and with her newest friend, Lisa had only needed do a single thing, and that was to be honest with her. Her power informed why, obviously - the girl had likely been the target of some sort of betrayal that had left deep emotional scars in her. You'd think that would cause her to be distrustful of strangers that seemed friendly, but if anything, the end result had been the total opposite.

Essentially, someone else had already done the job of making the poor girl isolated and emotionally vulnerable, and now Lisa was merely putting the pieces back together in a way that was convenient to her. She was honest about wanting to help Ice, and she was honest about having an ulterior motive. She just didn't tell Ice just how far the ulterior motive rabbithole went, giving her a technically true explanation.

But more importantly, Lisa was Tattletale, the brain behind the Undersiders, and Lisa had witnessed, in that alley, a would be heroine with an incredible amount of potential, based on the power of her cryokinesis alone. A potential member. A potential asset. A potential asset in her control.

It almost hurt Lisa's conscience to manipulate her in the way she would be manipulated, but Lisa would still have her way.

Besides, Ice'd be happier for it, Lisa knew. When her plans finally came to fruition, she'd make sure Ice got off scot-free and would be infinitely better prepared to go out and be an Endbringer-punching Heroine like she wanted to be. A bit more scarred than she'd otherwise be, but better for it.

Lisa smiled. Neither of the two people with her in the park could see that her smile was not the same vulpine smile that she smiled before, that expression full of smug satisfaction. Neither noticed that for a minute, her smile was brittle, fragile - weak.

Neither noticed hesitation, even for an instant, and Lisa would be damned sure it stayed that way.

This, right here, she vowed, was the beginning of change for her, where she'd once again take the reins of her life.

It was the beginning of her bid for freedom.

With her resolve strengthened, Lisa looked at Brian and Taylor, giving them a final once over with her power.

She only hoped that her gamble paid off.


	8. 2-1 Icicle

**Frostbite**

* * *

Summary: Winter raged around Taylor, who was sealed in her locker at freezing temperatures. The cold doesn't bother her anyway.

* * *

 **2.1 Icicle**

I don't know how to feel about my trigger event.

The ceiling in my bedroom doesn't hold answers for me, as I look at it. I can't find in it even a clue of how I should feel, what I should think or where I need to go. I've got... nothing.

I really have no idea how to feel about the trigger event that changed my life so.

Because, on the one hand, it really was the worst moment of my life and I'm fairly sure my heart stopped at least once. I could've died. I did die, kind of, for an instant.

I'd frozen to death in that locker.

I raised one of my hands and moved it until it was in front of my face. Before departing to meet up with dad for dinner, Lisa had actually told me to experiment with making shapes with my ice. She told me to start with small statuettes, animals and the like, to train my dexterity and agility with it. Apparently, she saw the potential in it to be way more versatile than what I was already doing. She suggested the details on my armor as proof. Yes, they were rough and only vaguely representing what I wanted them to be, but they were there, somewhat.

The cold moved around in my hand, taking shape. With a mental flex, the cold created the ice around it, a sphere shape came at first, and soon, it was beginning to show the signs of transforming into a vaguely canine quadruped.

It might look like I'm doing this really easily, but I have to etch every detail in my mind one by one. It feels a little like playing with play-doh. The ice responds to my mental pull, as I 'pull' the legs out from what is its belly. At this point, it looks not unlike someone stuck four cylinders of playdoh onto a rolled bigger mass. Little by little, I began to shave it at the sides, giving it a shape more akin to a dog, and I took a rather long time to give the knees shape.

One of the upsides of not working with my arms is that I don't have to deal with clumsiness or a lack of fine motor control. My ice is responding exactly to what my mind asks, and while I would not be able to reproduce what I'm doing with actual plasticine, I can create a roughly canine shape.

It took me like five minutes, but the statuette is of a standing dog. Tailless, I realize, and I quickly add the tail. I frown at the dog statuette that sits on my hand. It looks so stiff. With my mind, I focus on its legs - it knees, and reshape them a bit - closer to what I've seen on actual dogs. With another mental effort, I make it sit on my hand, and even open its snout, where a long and wide tongue comes out.

It's kind of fun, actually. Focusing purely on the statuette, I reorganize the ice on it and focus on all four limbs. I'm not sure that it'll stay together outside of my control, I know for a fact ice should not work like this, and it probably will simply fall apart if I'm not exerting influence for it to remain as it is right now, but I can make it move. It's slowly and jerky, but it's nonetheless moving.

Every step is a little more sure than the last, and after a while, I began making it move more like a stalking hunter than a jerky children's toy. I imagine its hair standing on end, its ears up and scanning for sound, its eyes wide open and observant, as it climbs onto the hill that is my chest to look around and scan the area.

However, before I could spend more time on it, exhaustion from a hard day's work was beginning to set in. We'd been running through potential names as well as ideas for what the design on my armor could be to match it. We really didn't come up with something all that great, at least not something that I approved of anyway.

Both Brian and Lisa told me to pick one before letting the PRT stick me with one of their own design. Apparently, they had a habit of giving heroes not under their purview lame or threatening sounding names. Lisa had theorized that they did it as a sort of incentive for one to join the Protectorate or Wards, said that they would otherwise paint you as a villain or undesirable. Brian agreed. I wondered if they had something against the protectorate, but the example of a hero not on their payroll receiving a lame name was brought up.

Poor Chubster. I get that he's obesse, but you don't need to throw it on his face. Poor guy's a hero, he deserves at least a little respect, no matter how ridiculous or fat he is.

A yawn ripped itself from me. I had my ice dog statue run to my arm and then deposited it on the floor. It ran under my bed, like I imagined a pet dog would, and curled up to sleep beneath me. I'm not sure how long it'll last, but the last thing I want is for dad to come in and see it only partially melted and wonder where it came from, so instead, I had it hide under my bed, where it'd melt with no further issue.

Another yawn reminded me that I was tired and I laid down, closing my eyes.

* * *

Most of the week was very busy.

During the investigation into Sophia's outburst, allegations of bullying were thrown around and made their way to the police. Normally, Blackwell would just shut down any such pursuit, but it seemed that, for whatever reason, Blackwell had not been quite as protective of Sophia as she usually was. Not cooperative, by any stretch of the word, but instead of shredding evidence, she was simply staying quiet.

Rumor was going around that she herself was being investigated because of the allegations of a coverup regarding Sophia's behavior. Apparently, Sophia had pissed off some big fish, because this whole thing was on an incredibly fast track. The whole of the investigation was moving at a blazing fast pace. I would hazard a guess that the police want to get it out of the way as fast as possible.

Personally, I'm not gonna complain. Sophia is getting what she deserves.

I'd talked to several police officers and I'd even given my statement as the victim of the majority of her bullying. It was almost like a floodgate opened, once Sophia was first taken down. It surprised me to see just how quick and eager the girls at my school were to throw each other under the bus in an effort to be the new Queen Bee. Emma's 'popularity' base was broken since she was caught up in this incident and would likely face at least some repercussions her father wouldn't be able to squirrel her out of. Madison had been exposed as a vindictive and evil shitstain instead of the adorably cute girl she pretended to be.

Everyone else was scrambling to take their place. Some had even tried to pick up where they'd left off, trying to ascert themselves by bullying people thought of as 'easier' targets.

Most of them couldn't even provoke a reaction from me. They didn't have the amount of time necessary, nor did they have the insider knowledge, nor did they even have the guts, to do all the hurt that the bitch trio had done to me. And even the remaining two members of the Bitch Trio didn't have enough ammo left.

Emma had retreated into herself, probably feeling naked now that she doesn't have a thug watching her back. I can buy that she's just terrified that without Sophia's muscle, she's vulnerable to getting her dumb face punched in by the people she taunts. Or maybe it was something else, honestly, I don't think I've ever seen Emma this scared.

It was slightly disturbing to see her like that, but even worse was the fact that my own stupid traitorous heart began to feel, of all things, sympathy for her.

People might think that I'm being a cold and heartless bitch if they learn that my reaction to feeling sympathy for Emma was to squash any such feelings using my cold. I can, intellectually, understand that her situation tugs at my heartstrings. I understand that I was in a similar place, terrified and feeling like no one had my back, not too long ago. But without the overwhelming emotion blinding me, I was able to remember that the reason I'd felt like that was Emma herself, and her betrayal.

I would not let her get to me, never again.

You got what you deserve, you heartless bitch, and I'm glad. I'm glad I have my power, so my stupid bleeding heart can't guide me to do something unbelievably idiotic like try to help you when you have just been stomping me further down when our positions were reversed. In fact, I should probably capitalize on it.

Cold enveloped me, and our eyes met. Her eyes were wide, her entire being was wary, she looked like she expected, at any moment, something to happen. Perhaps she's expecting me to start dealing payback unto her for all her years of bullying.

Maybe I should. Maybe I should pay her back, pound for pound.

I glared at her. She nearly flinched under my gaze.

Then I turned around and left.

"Taylor..."

I did not look back.

"Taylor!"

I kept walking.

* * *

The dog statue looked inquisitively at me. "What do you care, you're not even real," I said, glaring at it. I imagined how it would whine at my unnecessary harshness.

I had it leap off my hand. It hit the ground, and despite looking like it was made of glass, it perfectly bent its knees to absorb the impact, only slipping slightly because, you know, it's made of ice and all. I've gotten very good at making small statues like this.

So good, in fact, that I made another one. This one a simpler design, a snake that was coiled around my left arm, slowly but surely sliding up to rest on my shoulder. I've also tested making them bigger. I don't wanna go too big in places where I can be seen experimenting, especially out of costume, and they leave behind water when they melt away so it's kind of hard to hide them sometimes. Especially if I go too big.

So far, I've created real sized wolves and a snake roughly as long as I am tall, so thereabouts of six feet, and thicker than my arms put together. Not a big feat, mind you - my arms are stick thin still.

Lisa and Brian's recommendations included exercise, such as taking up jogging in the mornings or even joining a gym. Brian advised me against joining a gym, if I intended to be a hero, it might be better to have him acquire some gear for me to work out on my own. He knew where to get them cheap and of decent quality, so he'd get back to me about prices and we'd go from there. He'd also offered to help me work out every morning. All we had to do was synch up our running schedules and then he'd slowly ease me into a workout routine that served the purpose of keeping me fit and able to fight.

Even if Lisa insisted that I learn to fight more using my powers rather than beating people up, she did also agree that I still had to be in good physical shape, especially if some Trump comes around and strips me of my powers, or someone comes around with a hard counter to my power, so I can either run or take them down in hand to hand.

I agreed with them on most counts.

To be entirely honest, how much they know of this business is a bit scary. I mean, I'm the one who's a cape here, and they know so much more than I do. They knew the unwritten rules before I did, they had a better explanation for their existence than I did, and they know how to train themselves to be good at being a cape.

And I'm honestly surprised that they seem to really want to help me. I know that they're, in a way, using me for their own ends - Lisa has made that fact painfully clear. This is a mutually beneficial relationship. I get help, training and maybe, if I do things right, a friendship out of this, and they get to be friends with a cape. That alone can be incredibly helpful, since having a superhero on speed dial means you're safer than most.

It's a bit weird that they're both against the Protectorate as much as they are, though. I mean, I can see their points - the Protectorate DOES care a lot more about PR than I think it should, but still, I get the feeling that there's more to it than that. There has to be, I mean, I would get them recommending against joining the wards if that were the case, but to be so vehemently against it...

Maybe they had illegal interests or businesses? It could explain why they were against me joining the faction that would have me hunt them down. Then again, I've made no secret that I intend to be a hero...

Also, they seem like good people. I might be presumptuous and moving a bit too fast, but I really want to believe that they're good people. And... if they are, well, the law is not always right, and... there can be extenuating circumstances.

I really want this to work right. I want to be their friend, I want to have friends who won't betray me, even if it's only because I'm useful to them. But... then again, do I want to be friends with people who would betray me if I wasn't useful to them? If I take more than I give?

It's kind of pathetic, isn't it?

I'm trying to be all strong and in control all the time, and I feel like I'm finally managing to do it as Taylor, I've turned Winslow on its head, Sophia's gone, Emma's in shambles, Madison's a shade of her former self, the teachers are taking measures, finally, and Blackwell has been pretty much a nonentity, and might even face criminal charges herself, so...

I think I've got things reversed. I think I'm acting closer to what I wanted my cape identity to be as a civilian, while I'm accidentally exposing my true self as a cape. Could it be?

... Then again, I do feel more comfortable wrapped in ice than without it. And... and... I'm safe as a cape. Nobody knows who I am, nobody knows who sits behind the mask, so I can do whatever I want. I can be myself, and if things go sour, I can give up the mask and just be Taylor Hebert again. I...

I don't think I've ever been able to be myself at Winslow, so maybe I'm overcompensating as a cape, I don't know.

I don't know if I want it to go back to how it was, with a meek, useless and spineless Taylor being ground underneath someone else's heel. I don't know if I can handle that. Even... even if I knew that at night I could just be myself, that I could just be a cape and be free... I don't think I could manage that.

This arrangement will have to do I guess. For the time being, this is my new life. I think it's a bit ironic I spend my time as a 'civilian' adopting my cape persona and letting my true self run free only behind the mask.

But either way, I'm close to the graveyard. It's time to meet with Lisa and Brian and their friends. It'll be fun, I suppose. I'll be meeting new people, making new friends.

I should be slightly scared. I know I should be. Because this all does raise a few alarms. Everything's been too easy, too nice, too good to be true.

Deep within me, I fear that I'll wake up at the hospital to find nothing changed after Sophia beat the shit out of me.

But for now? For now I guess I'll enjoy the dream and deal with the rest as it comes.


	9. 2-2 Icicle

**Frostbite**

* * *

Summary: Winter raged around Taylor, who was sealed in her locker at freezing temperatures. The cold doesn't bother her anyway.

* * *

 **2.2 Icicle**

Brian gave me a smile. He did have a nice smile. His deep voice was smooth and inviting as he introduced me. We still hadn't completely agreed on a proper name for my cape persona, but the tentative we'd settled on was Snow Queen. Surprisingly, it was free. Apparently, people have been pointedly trying to stay away from names that could link them to the Faerie Queen.

I don't see the point - she's in the Birdcage, and nobody has ever managed to leave it, might as well count her as dead for all the influence that she has on the world outside it. Then again, for all I know, she just stays there because she likes it or something equally silly.

...

Okay, the idea of the villains being able to escape the Birdcage at any time is a bit scary.

"Anyway, this here's Rachel," he said, gesturing to a surly looking girl... more woman than girl really... that glared at me and seemed to falter slightly for a moment, "she's not super friendly, but don't worry, once you get past the initial awkwardness, she'll have your back," he said, hastily. "She's slow to trust," he added, seemingly as an afterthought.

Apparently, he'd expected her to help introduce herself. She merely glared at me and gave out a 'humph' of acknowledgement.

Well you can't always be well liked by everyone you meet, but still, the hell's her problem?

"Last, and certainly least, is Alec," Brian finished.

The smallest of the group, a rather effeminate-looking boy, chuckled. "Fuck you too, Brian," he said, though he appeared to do it in a joking manner, his tone was one of cheer, even if it seemingly ran a little hollow given the words he'd chosen.

"And don't worry about them revealing anything they see here," Lisa interjected. "You're our friend now, so don't worry about that."

I hadn't thought about that. Maybe I should have. I give Lisa the best "Are you sure?" look I can, but she just smiles like she knows something I don't, which... admittedly, she probably does. I mean, bitchy though Rachel may seem, she's still their friend, I guess, and if they're criminals like I suspect they are, there's probably something like honor amongst thieves or something like that.

Or maybe their plan is to subvert me to their criminal ways. In which case, pissing me off like that is probably not the best idea, so... I'm probably safe? It's weird to say that I'm probably safe because I'm surrounded by criminals. I mean, I hope they're not, but... all signs point to yes.

I might have consulted a magic Eight Ball if I had one.

"So we're basically here to help Frosty learn how to actually use her powers in a fight, I take it," Alec summarized, leaning against the wall of one of the structures still standing from when this place was in use. I'm not sure what it was, I think it was some sort of administrative building, 'cause it doesn't seem big enough to put ships into for repairs or the like.

Either way, it's an abandoned derelict like all the boats here.

"Pretty much," Brian admitted. "Hey, don't knock it, you can always have some fun thinking up new imaginative ways to murder people with ice," he said.

Alec rolled his eyes. "I can think of dozens, but that doesn't mean she can do it. Do we know her range for her manipulation, anyway?"

Lisa smiled and nodded. "We do have a general handle of her powers by now," she admitted. "Do you mind if I give the briefing?" she asked.

It seemed like she was in her element, so I nodded at her.

"Well, so far, our tests seem to indicate that she can freeze anything within two feet of any given part of her body. So yes, stretching her arm increases her range," she explained, "and once she starts freezing something, she can freeze the whole regardless of how much of it is actually in her range," she continued.

Huh. I... actually didn't know that. Last time we didn't test much, but it seemed like she'd been able to glean that from what little we did, probably plus whatever it is she'd seen me do before. "How are you so sure of that last one?" I asked, frowning a bit.

"Call it intuition," she said, "and also observation. I'm guesstimating a bit on the range, it's probably not exactly two feet, but somewhere around it," she explained, "probably not much more than a few inches either way, margin of error," she said, "half a foot maximum... probably depends on your mood," she added.

I'm somewhat confused, and she seems to have gone on a tangent. "Um, Lisa," I began, "the briefing..?"

"Ah, yes, right," she said, "I got a bit lost in thoughts there, sorry," she smiled apologetically. Maybe. She always looks kind of smug, I think. Probably facial shape. "Anyway, within that field you can also manipulate heat in rather nonsensical ways, and I do mean that, I literally can't make even the slightest bit of sense of how your cold powers work. You can make things cold, but you're not taking away heat, you're somehow injecting cold, which doesn't make sense because cold doesn't exist, cold is just the absence of heat, which, well, point is, you can throw cold at people. Past that range any cold you generate turns to ice."

I blinked. Yeah, it didn't make sense to me either, and I'm the one with the power, but how did you know that last part, Lisa? I didn't tell you now did I? That's... that's kinda weird, actually.

"And like I've said before, you're really easy to read, might want to work on that," Lisa explained, "I know what you're thinking, and again, I'm making a guess based on how the rest of your powers work. Yes, correlation is not causation, trust me I understand that better than anybody, but we're here to test any such hypothesis."

Brian nodded. "Lisa's usually right about this sort of thing. You could say she's got a bit of a sixth sense when it comes to her intuition, she can make really weird leaps of logic that wind up being correct. Sometimes I think she just guesses and gets lucky," he said, chuckling, "maybe she triggered with a luck power or something."

"I wish," Lisa said, shaking her head. "Anyway, how are you going with your ice shaping training?"

I smiled at her and crouched, placing a hand in the ground. The ground before me freezed and I had the ice gather up and transform into a rather large canine shape, one that quickly shook its pelt free of excess frost, throwing snow around. Soon enough, a wolf that rose up to my waist was standing perfectly still before us.

I could see Rachel look slightly interested now. Apparently, that was impressive enough to warrant her attention.

"That's... excellent, actually. Definitely professional quality ice sculptures," Lisa said, looking from paw to snout and to the tip of its abnormally stiff tail, which looked like it should be fluffy. I've gotten very good at this, and I can definitely impress with it.

I had it walk forwards a few steps and then sit on its haunches.

"It's stiff and unnatural," Rachel said, finally, glaring at the wolf. "It looks accurate, its movements are nearly perfect... but it's not breathing."

"Well of course it isn't, it's a statue Rache," Alec said, rolling his eyes.

"Well, you can control ice outside of your cold range, we know that much at least," Lisa said. "How tough is this thing? Do you think it could subdue opponents?"

"I... haven't tested that, actually," I admitted, sheepishly. "I mean, my ice is very tough, so, I figured my statues would be tough too," I conitnued. "So..."

Lisa sighed and Brian laughed. "You haven't been using them to fight crime, have you?"

"Not really? I mean, I started with puppy-sized statues, and... well, I both didn't think that they would be very useful and it took too much mental effort to get them to move when I was just learning. I can do it as a... well, as a background process, right now, but when I just started I had to concentrate and couldn't do anything else when I was moving a statue. Now I can control at least two without really thinking about it."

"You probably should keep a few aces up your sleeve, even from us," Brian advised, shaking his head, "don't tell us all your weaknesses and strengths - you never know, maybe one of us will be captured and we might talk under pressure."

"Or if I'm offered enough money," Alec said, shrugging.

Yeah. Well... okay, he's not wrong, per se, but it doesn't really sit well with me. They're trying to help me, and they've been abnormally nice to me, so I'd feel kinda bad being all secretive and stuff. "... I guess," I said, somewhat dissatisfied.

"Don't worry, we're suggesting you be the one to do it, so it won't offend us," Lisa said.

I sighed. I guess they're right.

"Anyway, you've basically got an instant-kill field around you, since you can freeze anything within your range. And by freeze, I mean 'freeze to a temperature where you can shatter steel with minimal effort' freezing," Lisa explained.

Alec whistled. "That's gotta do some nasty work," he added.

"Manton limited..?" Lisa muttered, then her eyes widened. "Okay, so... just don't freeze people, okay?"

I nodded, blinking. I'm about confused. "Manton limited? I've heard that term somewhere..."

"Basic explanation: Theory that says that certain powers can't affect living beings. Some say it's a psychological block, others say that it's inherent to the power, others still say there's something called a Manton field around all living beings that disrupts some powers. I don't know if yours are, but for safety's sake, just don't do it - your power to freeze would, like Alec put it, do some nasty work on living, breathing humans if it works," she explained.

We went on much of the afternoon talking about my powers and their particularities.

It would be until a while later that we started thinking of solutions to my current problems and limitations.

Apparently everyone agreed I can't fight worth shit. I protested, I mean, I have been taking down thugs everywhere. And then Brian flat out told me that the only reason I was doing so well was because I had my armor protecting most of my body. Others couldn't deal damage to me, so it was a battle of attrition and I only needed to get a lucky shot to win most of the fights I'd had.

He wasn't wrong. I definitely had focused on my armor a lot, and it had pulled me through a lot of sticky situations. When it comes down to it, yeah, I'd say I've won most of my fights because my opponents simply couldn't hurt me, and when it came to dealing damage, well, I was wielding large clubs all the time. I'm basically fighting like a caveman in walking around wearing a fridge as armor.

Taylor Smash Effeminate Bangers. Taylor strongest there is!

I giggled to myself. "Okay so that's bad," I agreed, "how do I fix it?"

"Well, I know some, and I can teach you it," Brian said, "but you might want to look into self defense. It shouldn't be hard to justify in Brockton Bay," he said with a sigh, "just say that you're afraid of the ABB or something."

Nodding. "Meanwhile, I'd actually been thinking of using my statues offensively. I mean, there's a reason why we're scared of face-eating wolves, right?"

"It works," Rachel said, all of a sudden.

The others chuckled.

"How many can you control at once?" Lisa asked. "Because wolves hunt in packs for a reason."

"Two, maybe three with a bit of exercise. The more I work it, the easier it becomes. I think my control is like a muscle, the more I use it, the better it becomes," I explained, "Two is the best I can do without having to stop to think of what they're doing, though."

"Not being able to see what they're doing is kind of a problem, I take it," Lisa said, looking me in the eye. It was almost as if she's probing for something.

"... Not really? I mean, I'm always peripherally aware of their situation. I think I just sorta know. Probably part of my power. I mean, powers don't really make sense to start off with, so I didn't think it was that weird," I explained.

"So you can get a feel for their location and what they're doing, even when you can't otherwise see them?" Lisa asked. "Interesting, actually, very interesting... It bears further investigation," she said. "How about other shapes?"

"Well, I've been thinking of making humanoid shapes, but it's more difficult than I thought. It turns out, bipedal creatures are kind of a pain to get to move right as well as be fast and strong. I guess it's a lack of practice, maybe."

"Try to figure out humanoid shapes, at least, so the Snow Queen can have a proper army," Lisa said with a chuckle.

I rolled my eyes. "Awesome as it could be, I don't think I'm looking at an army any time soon. Just the idea of moving that many creatures all at once is... actually, that might be kind of fun, now that I think about it," I admitted.

I can envision it already. All the things I could do if I could make humanoid creatures. I would have them do my chores at the house, maybe help braid my hair before I went out in costume, do my homework...

What, it can't be that weird that the first thing I thought of was the utility and mundane uses for human statues. Who wouldn't want servants with no free will, who can never complain about being essentially slaves?

Well that got dark pretty quick. Apparently, Lisa thought my face was funny, because she had a smirk full of mirth on hers, and even Brian seemed amused. Alec and Rachel, meanwhile, seemed more openly mocking. Well, Alec, anyway. I think Rachel just always looks angry like that.

"You were talking out loud there," Brian said.

Oh.

"Well, what's so weird about thinking of mundane applications first?"

"Not gonna lie," Alec admitted, "having actually mindless slaves would be better than the other option, I suppose," he said. "Not that I really mind all that much either way."

"Well, I can't say they wouldn't be useful," Lisa admitted. "Though I can think of a few more... profitable uses, myself. Honestly, having extra bodies around can always be useful, if you have a lot of work."

"I don't see the point," Rachel said, glaring at her. "More people to get in the way," she added.

"Well, think about it like this: It would be as if there were multiple of you, instead of people you don't know and can't trust to do things right," Lisa said.

Rachel frowned, but it seemed that the logic of it won her over. "Easier to take care of multiple injuries," she muttered.

I was a bit confused. "Take care of what? She's a nurse or something?" I asked. I did not peg Miss I'm Looking Angrier Than Sophia Hess Here to be one who would care for the injured.

"No, she just works at dog shelters," Brian said. "She's talking about dogs."

"Oh," I said, frowning. I guess that explains why she reacted more to the wolf statue than to anything else I've said and done. Actually, if she knows a lot about dogs... "Hey, I've been thinking about making my dog statues better, do you think she could help me?"

"She could," Brian said, "but the real question is: Would she?" he asked. "And as it is right now, no, I doubt it. Maybe once she gets more comfortable with you, she'll help you somewhat, since this is a project that would obviously catch her eye, but I'd suggest asking later, once she thinks of you as part of the team rather than an outsider."

Part of the team? "Team? What do you mean?" I asked.

"You know, I'm talking metaphorically," he said. He was a bit hasty to clarify. I think I might be right. I think these guys might actually be criminals. If that's the case... I need to see it for myself. Because I've seen too many Aleph movies to think everything's too black and white to have gray areas.

"Oh, okay," I said. No need to press the issue for now. "So, about running together?"

He smiled. He had a nice smile.


	10. 2-3 Icicle

**Frostbite**

* * *

Summary: Winter raged around Taylor, who was sealed in her locker at freezing temperatures. The cold doesn't bother her anyway.

* * *

 **2.3 Icicle**

Dad washed his hands in the sink as he finished washing the cup he'd just used for coffee. "I still don't know, Taylor... Running in the mornings? I'd feel a bit safer if you went to a gym honestly."

I rolled my eyes at him. I know he's concerned, but seriously. There's nothing unpowered thugs can do against me and the ABB only has two known Capes, both of which only come around for really big shitfests. Even if the Empire invaded ABB territory, with my skin color and theme, they'd more likely try to recruit me and might even just leave me alone if I say I just want to deal with the street level crime that other capes don't really care about. The fact that I'm working mostly on the docks and thus most of my 'arrests' have been of people of ethnic 'minorities' (at this point, I'm beginning to suspect Asians outnumber all other races combined in Brockton Bay, at least going by how much the ABB outmanned the Empire and the Merchants) would only help.

Admittedly I'd feel like shit afterwards, and would probably need a dozen or so showers to shake the nazi slime off of me, but I'd be safe from them, mostly.

"Dad, I'm going to run with a guy who's a bit taller than me, twice as broad on the shoulders and built like a brick house, I don't go to a gym because I've got a personal trainer with me, pretty much," I explained, leaning back on the chair I was seated on and sighing as I watched dad put everything back into place.

"That's part of what I'm worried about. You don't really know this guy," he insisted.

"Well, I know enough to know I'm not in danger from him," I said.

Mostly because unless he pulls powers out of his ass that can go through my armor, he literally can't do crap to me, and I've also been working on getting my armor out faster.

"Is he gay?" dad asked, frowning a bit.

"Is there a problem with that?" I asked, challengingly.

I don't know, honestly. I hope not. That'd be a crime against mankind. Like Legend being gay. Thousands of teenaged girls screamed in agony the day it became known.

"No, I- er, I mean-" he shook his head, "stop changing the subject," he said with a frown on his face.

"Well, dad, I really need to know," I said, "because my response might depend on that," I added. It kind of did and kind of didn't.

I am not lying to dad. Regardless of what he answers I will not answer his question, I will just deflect it again. I won't lie to him, but I also will not tell him the truth, because it would entail revealing my crime fighting shenanigans to him, and somehow I doubt he'll have as much of a problem with me running with a gay friend I just met even if he's homophobic than he would have if I was secretly punking out drug dealers at night.

"Okay, okay," he said, running a hand through his thinning hair. "Taylor, you know that if you have problems, you can just talk to me, okay?"

"I know," I said, "but why do you bring that up?"

"If what you're looking for is thugs to do something... well, I probably shouldn't say this as your father, but you know everyone at the Union is more than fond of you," he said, "and everyone owes everyone else a favor or two, you know how it goes..."

"Dad... are you seriously offering me to hire the dockworkers as a band of thugs to enact bloody revenge on my tormentors?" I asked, blinking widely.

"I... did not say that," he said, slowly.

"Are you secretly a criminal mastermind, dad?" I asked, probably looking way more sure than I sounded. I could control my face very well.

He smiled. "Mastermind? No, kiddo, that's what I've got you for. You've got the brains in the family," he said, chuckling. "But you know, the dockworkers are restless, and some have contacts..."

Jesus Christ. Dad might actually be a potential gangster. "Well, dad, I've actually been thinking about how to get back to the last one of my tormentors still at school. You know the whole mess with Sophia Hess?"

He nodded. "Haven't heard from the cops recently, but I guess the wheels of justice are still grinding. Slowly, but they're moving, so that's good," he explained, rubbing his chin. "Why?"

"Well, that wasn't really planned, it was mostly a spur of the moment thing that went way better than I expected. Honestly, the most I expected was maybe her getting a stern talking to from Blackwell before things began to swing in my favor," I admitted. "But this time, I've got a plan I'm working on. I've been distracted a bit recently, but... I know how to deal with my last tormentor, probably permanently."

"You're not thinking anything criminal, are you?" he asked. "I know that you're angry, kiddo, but violence is not the answer."

"I know that better than anyone - provoking others into violence is my schtick, dad," I said, rolling my eyes. "No, I've got a better idea. In fact, what I'm doing? You could see it as probably the best thing anyone has done for this person in a very long time."

"That could be interpreted as teaching a lesson," Dad said, "and I know what that can possibly entail."

"No, no violence," I said. "Just very stern talking tos," I said, smiling as I imagined the chewing out my target would endure.

"Well, what do you have in mind?" he asked, looking somewhat anxious, "and how can I help?"

"Dad, can you set up a meeting with Alan Barnes? And please, I need to meet with him in private. Very confidential stuff, hush hush you know."

"Can you tell me anything, at all?" he asked.

"Only that Alan Barnes is instrumental to my plans. He's your good friend, isn't he?" I asked. I actually needed to check something, I realize, before I proceed through. My dad is not the absolute best judge of character, but he's my best source into Alan Barnes, and my plan won't work unless he's just incompetent rather than actively malicious. Same as with Gladly, really.

"Yeah, been friends since a long time actually. Kind of like you and Emma," he said, scratching his chin. He seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Why?"

"Well, would you say he is a good father?" I asked. "I mean, as in, how far would he go for his daughter?"

"Did something happen to Emma? Is one of your bullies picking on her, too?" Dad asked.

"Something like that," I said. Kind of.

Emma had turned on me and had been the most hurtful of my bullies. I had no idea what the hell had happened, but one day, she showed up with Sophia at her side and since then she's been the bitchiest of the bitch trio. She was in charge of the psychological assault on me, and had by far done the most damage until January, when Sophia outdid herself and crowned herself reigning champion of bitches everywhere.

My emotions flared at the thought of her, and I stilled them. No sense losing my temper from memories. I love my power at times like this.

"So," he said, "this is to help Emma I take it?"

I can't lie to him. It will help her. I don't know whether I want to help or hurt her. I can't even tell when I have cooled down significantly. If anything, being able to analyze things logically made me able to see that much as I continued to try to get over her, as much as I continuously acted with indifference (again, aided by the cold), I could not just move on.

"Yeah," I said. "It'll help her," I added, nodding a bit.

"Okay, I'll talk to Alan, tell you what he says," he said. "Don't worry, Kiddo, I'm sure Emma'll be okay with your help."

I almost snorted.

She would be better.

But would she be okay? That remains to be seen.

Emma is a bit of a thorny subject, to be honest.

Sure, when I used my cold, it became easy to ignore her, to not even glance in her direction. I knew I wanted to. I wanted to see her squirm and suffer. I wanted to hear her cry for help. But it also hurt. It hurt to see her like that. It hurt to know that I had put someone in the situation I was once in.

I was proud that I had reduced the once strong and in control Emma Barnes to the same state as the once pitiful and meek Taylor Hebert.

I was ashamed of the fact that I had put another in the situation that had put me through so much suffering before.

And I could feel my heart reach out for Emma. I could feel myself hope against hope that she had learned her lesson, that I could hug her and then she'd apologize and we would be BFFs again.

And as I could feel that, I could also feel a part of me that wanted to take her in my arms only for easier access to her neck so I could strangle her more easily, end her life just after I had destroyed it.

As the cold washed over me, I realized I could think very logically and come to a very simple conclusion.

I love Emma Barnes.

I hate Emma Barnes.

I did not want to love Emma Barnes, because I hate her.

I did not want to hate Emma Barnes, because I love her.

She is my best friend, she is my worst enemy.

I want to save her, I want to destroy her.

I sink further into the cold.

Emma Barnes has a wealthy father. A wealthy father with access to a well known and respected law firm. Emma Barnes is intelligent, socially skilled and beautiful. Emma Barnes is a potential asset.

Emma Barnes has proven that she can be influenced. Circumstances unknown. Could be trauma? Possibility, bears investigation.

Emotional responses are insufficient for decision making. Conflict can be resolved. The source of my hate is simple, Emma Barnes has tortured me, destroyed possessions with sentimental value and actively betrayed any and all trust I have placed in her. My hate is rooted in deep seated anger and fear against her. I am angry at what she has done, and afraid of what she could do.

However, I cannot deny a great deal of emotional attachment to Emma Barnes. Unlike my hate, which is young and fresh, my love for her is old and deeply rooted. I had known her for longer than I could remember. Our fathers were friends. I had spent many a night at her house. She had been my other half, I had trusted her with everything.

Anger flared, I noted, at the memory of sharing my secrets with her. Anger and sadness. Regret. Sorrow.

It did not affect me in my current state. My emotions are there, I know, but my mind is clear, my temper is cool. I have emotions still.

I considered submerging deeper into the cold, eliminate the emotional aspect of my argument altogether. It is inadvisable. The result of this will affect me fully when I release my hold on my own mind. I cannot hold this state indefinitely, nor do I wish to. A life where I cannot feel joy or sadness is a dull, meaningless life.

I can hardly appreciate them when they are in full force, but as I deaden their impact more and more, I can only further appreciate my emotions. Without them, I am lesser.

What I must do is clear to me. I must use cold logic to find the way that hurts me the least.

I believe I have found it.

Anger and hatred are like a flame, they burn hot and the burn bright, they consume everything within their reach and with enough fuel, they are unstoppable forces of destruction that will leave nothing to be salvaged behind them. Indulging in anger and hatred is liberating and satisfying on the short term.

But I knew that I would regret doing so. That I would regret being angry and hateful. That I would regret the actions taken when under their influence.

Brightest flame burns quickest, and if I indulged in anger and hatred, when they burned out I would be left empty, hollow and regretful. I would be left a wreck of my former self, hounded by nothing but regret.

I could feel my emotions bubbling through to the surface of my mind, as if emerging from a freezing lake.

Because I had found my answer.

I hate Emma Barnes.

But I love Emma Barnes.

Emma Barnes was my best friend, my confidante, my sister by another set of parents.

I'm weak. I know this. I know this better than anyone, now - super logical me had it right. I'm the kind of bleeding heart moron that feels bad about things done when angry. I think I might actually dislike myself, somewhat, for that, but I don't want to go into the cold again just for that. Besides, I might feel worse if I check and it's true, or if I even have a full on case of self loathing.

I'm afraid to find something I'm not ready for if I look too deep within me.

As it is, the Emma problem has been one I have had to deal with for far too long, and there was no point dawdling.

I want to save her.

I hate her, I hate what she has become, I hate what she did.

But I want to save her. She is my best friend. Was my best friend. My sister. I loved her like one, certainly. And... I wanted to have it back.

I want her to love me like I love her. I want her to love me like she used to love me.

I can't believe her, I can't believe what she says, she told me back then that I was nothing but a weakness that she had outgrown.

But I can't believe that. I won't believe that. It's been too long, I've been feeling sorry for myself for too long. I've just been sitting here, taking her abuse, and wondering why, why she hated me, why she was so focused on me, why my sister in all but blood had told me that she despised me and the very idea of my existence, spit on all that we had shared and betrayed my trust like it was nothing.

I need to know why.

I must know why.

I have to.

Alan Barnes is my best bet in this situation. He has to know.

Something happened to Emma. Something happened to my best friend, that took her away from me.

And I will take her back.

Emma's my best friend, my sister.

She was my pillar when I could do nothing but cry myself to sleep, she was my company when none would give me even the time of the day, when father was in pieces, she was there for me.

And instead of being there for her, of being her rock and pillar to lean on, I had just walked away. Had she been angry, then? Had her words then been just a cry for help?

I don't know.

I won't know until I ask.

I will find out.

Had Emma been broken, then? Had Sophia put back the pieces in a manner convenient to her? Had she further broken Emma? Or had she simply been there, when Emma needed her?

Something must have happened. Something broke Emma. And I have to figure out what it was.

And then I will fix her.

I will fix her, and I will have her back.

Emma is mine, and I won't let anyone else have her.


	11. 2-4 Icicle

**Frostbite**

* * *

Summary: Winter raged around Taylor, who was sealed in her locker at freezing temperatures. The cold doesn't bother her anyway.

* * *

 **2.4 Icicle**

Dad came through rather quickly, and Alan Barnes was fairly willing to meet with me. It seems that he is not aware of the bullying, at the very least. He is aware that his daughter and I have started drifting apart, or at least that's what he thinks - we didn't drift apart so much as someone came between us and then Emma burned our bridge. And then nuked it for good measure. Twice.

I didn't actually tell him that, obviously. My getting to Emma hinges on her father believing that I am a friend staging an intervention following Emma becoming withdrawn and fearful in school. It's basically imperative that he believes that Emma still considers me, if not her best, at least still a good friend.

It helps that as I've discovered, Alan Barnes never liked Sophia, but a combination of him being entirely too indulgent and at the same time uncaring resulted in him just accepting Sophia's presence around Emma like nothing. There was something more there, but he didn't talk and I didn't pressure him to, alienating him right now will only hinder my attempts at pulling Emma's head out of her ass.

We talked about a fair few things, the man hasn't seen me in a very long time and hasn't really talked to dad in a while, both being extremely busy lately, so he was wanting to at least catch up a bit. Mostly he asked how I was doing in school, and I lied a fair bit. Well, somewhat - my grades used to be at the very top, and since the social hierarchy of our grade got tossed into chaos, I've been working on getting them to climb back up.

It's amazing the difference that delivering assignments in time can make. Also not being covered in soda, fruit juice or something else really helps concentration. Also cheating with my power to keep a cool head in stressful situations helps with tests. That last one, well, I'm not exactly proud of it but... it's my power, dammit, I'll use it when I want to.

Point is, I told him I'm doing well at school now that Sophia is gone, which prompted the discussion to go in the way I wanted it to.

"That..." he grimaced. "I couldn't believe it when Zoe showed me," he admitted. "I knew the girl had temper issues, but... Damn, I can't really say anything, can I? I mean, I accepted that girl into my home, and then she goes and does something like that, it's just not right."

Of course he did. I wouldn't believe that Sophia's temper never flared in their presence - he had to have known she was a powder keg with a short fuse. He probably wouldn't care if the target had been anyone but the daughter of a friend. That's... well, I can't blame him for thinking of the people he cares about first. I could, however, blame him for thinking that awful behavior is okay so long as the target is nobody he cares about.

But bringing that up wouldn't help me right now. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, she hits very hard, but she didn't get anything important," I said, taking a deep breath. "She's Emma's best friend."

"I thought that was you," Alan said, frowning a bit. It seemed he disapproved of the change, ultimately, especially now that I've taken away the veneer of civility that Sophia covered herself in. "I... don't know what Emma was thinking..."

So he did know. And for a lawyer, either he is an incredibly awful liar, or he actually wants me to know. Which, again, being a divorce lawyer of all things, he has to be aware of the many ways to misdirect and misinform. I realize I'm threading dangerous ground, I'm not talking with Random Joe Schmoe, here. This man, for all his many, many flaws, is still a rather skilled and succesful divorce lawyer, whose job consists of screwing people out of money, whether they were owed it or not, and he was very, very good a that.

Luckily, there's no money on the line here. Just Emma.

"I've always wondered why," I admitted. "I've always wondered why Emma seemed to hate me ever since she met Sophia," I said, sounding more wistful than I intended. I have, after all, tried many times to think what it could've been, while sitting alone and feeling sorry for myself instead of getting off my ass and actually doing something about it.

"Hate you..?" he seemed confused. "What do you mean, Taylor?"

"Did she never tell you?" I asked. I knew she didn't, it's likely Alan would've set her straight on that score. Not for my sake, but for his own - he was good friends with my father, and likely wouldn't want his daughter to ruin a friendship of many years on a whim. That is, if Emma didn't bullshit out an excuse or blame me somehow. Which she had done, many times, because of course everyone believed perfect Emma and never her victim. "It was the first time I met her since I went to the summer camp," I began.

It was clear that he knew something had happened around that time, but he probably has no idea it's related to me in any way or he might even be thinking of something completely different. Whatever it is that happened to Emma, whatever it is that Sophia did, it happened when I went to summer camp that year. He seemed interested, so I continued, hoping that catching his attention in this way would present me as the victim here.

Because I am. I am the victim. But more importantly, I'm the only one trying to fix this situation.

"When I came back, I rushed here. I wanted to see and talk to Emma, I hadn't seen her for a while, I wanted to tell her of all the things I saw and did at camp. And then, when I got here, I met... her," I said, frowning rather intensely. I need to concentrate on this, and I need to be upset for it to work. I could feel my cold, it wanted to be used, I wanted to let it consume me so that my temper calmed, but no, I need to be upset. This'll only work if I'm genuinelly upset instead of faking it. "Back then, I had no idea what was going on, but Emma had a new friend and I was curious and surprised and, well, you know how I was back then."

He nodded. I wasn't in a good place back then, but I was recovering, I was pulling myself together. I needed Emma for support back then, and... she became my self-ordained destroyer instead.

"I wanted to be able to hug my best friend, to tell her about all the new stuff, but she didn't smile at me, and when she looked at me, it wasn't with fondness or even irritation at being interrupted," I said, looking at the ground, remembering her eyes, how hateful she'd looked at that moment, and how much it'd hurt. "She told me to get out. I didn't know what was going on."

Alan did. Something about his posture, his facial expression and his physical reactions tells me that there is more than he admits to knowing. He must know what happened. I can use this, maybe.

"When she told me to get out, all I could do was ask why, why Emma seemed to hate me now, why she decided to suddenly break off our friendship," I'm being honest. I don't like remembering it, it was a bad memory at best, and the feelings it dredged up were not conductive to returning Emma to what she should have been instead of what Sophia made of her.

"What did she answer?" Alan asked, his voice curious and his tone neutral. Probably control born from having to keep a straight face in the most ridiculous or disturbing of situations in his cases.

"She told me that I was just a weakness that she'd outgrown. That I was just... weak. And she didn't need me anymore. So she told me to get lost, and... I did. I turned around and walked back home. When I got there, I don't even know how long I cried. I can't remember, even if I try. Instead, I just sat there," my bitterness began to slip into my words, my anger not at anybody else but at myself, at my own stupidity, at my cowardice and weakness, "and wondered where I'd gone wrong, what I did that offended her."

"... It wasn't you," he said, putting a hand on my shoulder, "Taylor, I... think you need to know something. It... happened during the time you were in summer camp," he began, looking about as lost and insecure about the situation as I felt. "I'm... actually not sure I should tell you myself, I think Emma needs to do it herself. I think you both need to clear the air. Sophia's gone now, she'll never hurt either of you again, and... I... I don't know what to do," he said, sitting back on his couch and looking defeated.

"That's okay," it really wasn't, he really should've at least tried to do something. Whatever it was that happened to Emma, it turned a nice and kind girl into a raging psychopath, and it doesn't sound like it was something Sophia did. Something broke Emma, and it seems that because she was there when I was not, Sophia was the one to put the pieces of Emma back together into something ghastly. "I think I've got an idea."

Alan seemed somewhat surprised. "I... do you think you can help her, where I couldn't? I've tried my best, I want to protect my little girl, Taylor, I want to help her, but... I don't know - I don't know how to help her, and - I'm not sure I..."

I shook my head. "Tell me if I've got this wrong. Something happened to Emma while I was at summer camp, something traumatic," I began, he nodded, "something that we can both agree broke her, somehow," I explained.

He agreed with that. Apparently, he could recognize that his precious little girl had at least some unresolved issues.

"And then Sophia comes in. I've got no idea how Emma met her," his flinch told me he knew, and apparently he was more knocked out of his comfort zone than ever, since he had clearly lost control of himself. Or he trusted me. One or the other. "But she did, and when Emma was hurting, in a bad place... when Emma was in pieces, Sophia comes in and Emma latches on to her for some reason," again, he clearly knew what the reason was, but he wasn't going to tell me, I'd need to get it from Emma directly, it seemed. "So Emma, who's in pieces, is put back together by Sophia, and we both know what Sophia is like."

He grimaced.

"She spouted out at least part of her ideology when she was beating the crap out of me," I began. "She had these... fucked up Social Darwinist ideals. She apparently decided that I was weak, that I was prey, and that she was a predator and that gave her the right to step on me and engage in a bullying campaign for the entirety of our time in High School." As I speak, I'm not sure I'm keeping the disgust I feel at Sophia's continued existence at bay. I take a deep breath, but I don't let the cold wash over me, I still need this, I still need raw emotion guiding me. "So here's what I think happened. Emma was in shambles, and she latched onto Sophia for some reason, probably because she felt weak and vulnerable and Sophia was pretending that being a violent lunatic made her strong. So... Emma became a violent person to emulate Sophia, so she wouldn't feel weak and vulnerable."

He seemed to be distraught. "I can see it," he admitted. "It's a possible scenario. I... hadn't really thought," he closed his eyes, "maybe I just didn't want to see. Maybe I just wanted... just wanted to pretend that she was okay. That everything was fine. That my girl was just going through a phase. It was a bit weird, in hindsight. Emma had never cared about being popular before she met Sophia."

"She used to hang out with me," I said, somewhat bitterly, "and I didn't like crowds or big social gatherings and stuff, so..."

He chuckled. "Taylor, Emma once told me that she'd rather have you than two dozen other friends," he said, seeming wistful. "I think you were closer to her than her actual sister," he added.

I frowned. "I don't know about that, but I certainly thought like that," I said, my eyes settling on the ground, "it's been a very long time since we were friends, since she tossed me out and exchanged me for Sophia. And... she's gone now."

Alan nodded.

"Sophia's gone, and I want to have my best friend back," I said, looking at him in the eye.

He seemed to be interested. "You... you have an idea, don't you?" he asked. "You've always been a smart cookie, Taylor, so I know you've thought of something."

"Yes," I said. I won't tell him exactly what I plan to do.

My plan is simple. Emma broke and healed wrong. She healed wrong and became something hideous.

When a bone heals wrong, you rebreak it, set it correctly and let it heal right. It hurts, it's painful, it's inconvenient and nobody likes having to do it, not the breaker not the one with the broken bone and not the one who has to make the cast, but if you want it to be right, it's a necessary step. I don't think Alan Barnes would react well to me telling him I am going to break his daughter into pieces and put her back together the way she should've been.

So I'm telling him a version that is technically true.

"I need your help for that, actually," I admitted. "I think this can't go on like it is, and I think that nothing will happen unless we come to an understanding," I explained. "So what I need is to basically air out everything that's between us, we need an environment in which we can talk and neither can run away from each other."

He rubbed his chin. "I think I get what you're thinking," he said, rubbing his chin. "Basically, what you want is to be locked together in a room with Emma so you can work through your issues together. Basically air everything out. It's... it's risky. You could wind up hating each other for real," he said, frowning. "Discover something about the other you don't like."

I shook my head. "Trust me, Mr. Barnes," I said, "there's nothing I could discover about your daughter that would change my feelings towards her right now."

He sighed. "I know you feel that way, Taylor, but..."

"You know when I told you that Sophia has been bullying me since we started high school?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Sophia was a very violent person. She would shoulder check me, trip me down the stairs, shove me, trip me, all that kind of stuff. Not that big a deal, in the grand scheme of things. Inconvenient and painful, but never truly hurtful," I said.

"I'm... sorry that Emma didn't stop it, but..."

I shook my head. "It's not that Emma didn't stop it, Mr. Barnes... it's that Emma was the one who truly hurt me. I didn't care about Sophia, still don't, and I'm just happy she's gone because, again, what she did was painful. But... what truly hurt me was that my once best friend, on whom I've trusted countless secrets and vulnerabilities, turned around and used that same trust to wound me more deeply than Sophia could ever have hoped to accomplish. My other bullies attacked me, but the only one who has ever hurt me was Emma. She was behind the worst stuff. She told everyone my secrets, my weaknesses, my vulnerabilities... she knew where to hit me, and she hit me hard. She dug at old wounds, she went after objects with sentimental value to me... she... I'm sure... I'm sure she planned the prank from January..."

It seemed to take the wind out of his sails. He collapsed onto his couch, completely and utterly defeated. "Taylor, I- I can't believe this. I know- I know Emma hasn't been in the right frame of mind for a while, but- but this? How can I believe it? How can you ask a father to believe his girl is a bully? No, even worse... you... you can't ask me to believe that Emma did... did that, that horrible thing! But..."

He deflated. His temper wasn't rising. He wasn't angry, he was defeated, he was scared and he was sad. I happened to bring this up to him not from the perspective of someone who is angry and wants revenge, but from someone who wants to help. I presented this to him in a way that tells him I'm not here because I want his money, or because I want to see Emma punished.

I came here clearly, and evidently, as someone who wants to help Emma. Because she is my best friend and I love her. And he knows that, he knows that so he knows I wouldn't lie and make stuff up to make her look bad. He knows I have no reason to lie.

"And to you, of all people - I - I don't know, I don't know what to think or what to say. Danny - he... he didn't seem to think anything was wrong, he implied you wanted to help Emma with something, so - he doesn't know, does he? Nobody knows?"

"Nobody cared," I admitted. "They were taunting and bullying the daughter of a dockworker, skinny and a bit of a wallflower. They were the popular girls. Emma was pretty, wealthy and incredibly charismatic. Sophia was athletic, a star of the track team. Even the third member of their 'main' group, Madison, was popular and known to be a 'good' girl, by testimony of her other friends. Nobody cared, and even when I talked to the faculty... it was my word against theirs. They never investigated, and the teachers pretended not to see."

"Jesus Christ," Alan said, raising a hand to his face.

I shook my head. "That's why I'm telling you that nothing I can learn about your daughter can sway me," I said, closing my eyes and thinking for a moment. Well, there were things that would probably sway my opinion, but, no point bringing them up right now.

"But... if what you said is true, why?" he asked. "Why would you want to be friends again with someone who betrayed your trust like that?"

"Because I loved her," I said, simply. "Emma was my sister. I loved her. I still do. Even after everything... I want her back," I said, and I have to close my eyes rather harshly, because I don't want to cry right now. "She was there for me when I was falling apart after mom's death. She's been... she's been hurting for a long time and I've been feeling too sorry for myself to help. I can't let it be like this, I can't let it end like this, so... so... that's why," I finished, taking a deep breath and swalloing the knot that was forming on my throat. "That's why I want to help her, like she helped me."

"You're a good girl, Taylor," he said, "I... I wish I could say I am half the man... er, person, that you are."

I shook my head. "I owe it to her," I insisted. "She was there when I needed her. I wasn't. I was away, I was too busy caught up in my own pain, ignoring her. And... because I wasn't here when she needed me, because I was off having fun, something happened to her, and she's been hurting, and it's all my fault, I should've- I ran away, I was a coward, when Sophia was hurting her, turning her into a monster, I ran away! She wouldn't have run out on me! No, if I had said that to Emma, I know that she would've slapped me and called me an idiot and made me see that I was being an idiot, but I was a coward, and I fucking ran! I ran scared, I cried at home, I asked why, I cursed her, I cursed Sophia, I cursed everyone because I'm a fucking coward who couldn't own up to the fact that Emma left me because I'm weak, and I'm pathetic and I'm lame and she found a much better friend and all I could do was feel sorry for myself instead of doing something about it."

"Taylor, it's not your fault, you were hurting too, so-"

"It's all my fault! I was a coward, this is all my fault because I ran, if I had... if I had stood my ground then, if I had told her that she was being a dummy, we would still be friends, and Emma wouldn't be hurting, and I wouldn't be hurting," I screamed, screwing my eyes shut harder, "I want her back... all I want- all - all I want is to have my best friend back..."

He stood up from his seat and approached me, before placing his hands on my shoulders and pulling me towards him. I could hear the rumble in his chest, his voice as he shushed me, as I continued trying to explain to him that this is all my fault.

He didn't get it.

He couldn't understand it.

I could hear him whisper, but I can't understand him. I pushed him away, but tall as I am, I'm still thinner than a twig and he's roughly three times my size. I can't do shit to push him away. For a moment, I could hear my ice calling, I could hear it telling me how I could push him away, how I could hurt him, make him leave.

Make him go away.

He was rubbing circles in my back, and only then did I realize I was crying. I think I ruined his shirt.

"It'll be okay, Taylor. We've all made mistakes, but we're going to fix them, okay? We're going to help Emma, and she'll be all better, okay?"

I couldn't answer. I didn't trust my voice to.


	12. 2-X Victorious

**Frostbite**

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Summary: Winter raged around Taylor, who was sealed in her locker at freezing temperatures. The cold doesn't bother her anyway.

* * *

 **2.X Victorious**

Victoria Dallon liked being a super hero.

Odd sentence, one would think, who wouldn't like to be a Super Hero?

Well, she could name a few. Quite a few, indeed, who would be extremely happy to give up their powers and have normal lives. Some had even tried. They'd failed miserably, of course - powers have a way of wanting to be used, and trying not to usually results in more trouble than if you'd just gone out and kicked bad guy ass every once in a while.

Or get into cape fights. Those help too. She got into a lot of those, and won a fair few of them.

That's not to say she hadn't also had her fair share of defeats. She'd gone into an exhibition match against Armsmaster once, thinking that her Brute rating would protect her from most of what he could do.

He hadn't even drawn his Halberd, that's how bad she'd been owned by the Tinker, using just the physical enhancements from his armor and his martial arts knowledge. She'd been a bit younger, more foolish and inexperienced than she was now. She had since actually learned how to throw a punch, how to dodge and how to read her opponents. Of course, she still couldn't beat Good Old Halbeard, but she had actually made him try, and that was progress in her book. Most people called it astonishingly good progress, but she knew that she had barely made him try, so she wasn't gonna rest on her laurels just yet.

She had also gone through combat simulations with most of the Wards that were or had been in Brockton Bay during her period of activity. Brockton Bay was one of those places where there were very few super strong Brutes on the side of the hero. It seemed that people who triggered with power that let them hit harder wound up more often on the wrong side of the law.

Given her own tendency towards overwhelming violence and the problems it caused her, Vicky could see why that happened so much.

Anyway, her least favorite fight had definitely been Shadow Stalker. The dark hero just would not stop taunting her about not being able to hit her, all the way until Vicky caught her by surprise and smashed her face first against a wall. Unfortunately, she wouldn't keep that busted nose as a reminder not to taunt the resident Alexandria Package, since Amy had also come along. It seems everyone expected Shadow Stalker to do something that would get her hurt way worse than her fellow wards.

Apparently Piggot had won a bet over it or something, what bodypart Vicky would break on her or something like that.

Dean had been pissy because he'd lost quite a bit of money on that, but hey, his monthly allowance was roughly what most of his peers made in a year of hard work, so he couldn't complain about money.

Aegis was also a tough one, because he just kept getting back up, no matter what Vicky did to him. He'd wound up defeating her by complete and sheer accident, never figuring out the trick to her force field, but managing to capitalize on it through an unintended secondary effect of punching her while she was only a few scant centimeters from a wall.

Getting knocked out like that had been embarrassing, needing to have part of her hair regrown was worse, Amy's 'I told you so' face was even worse than that.

There was something that was just viscerally satisfying about fighting another cape. For Vicky, she felt as if that was what she was meant to do. She hated the fact that her mother had forbidden her from engaging in fights with some of the more powerful capes in the city. Yeah, she knew Lung was bad news, but fighting the Rage Dragon would be the raddest thing ever. That would be one opponent she could finally go all out on.

Sometimes, Vicky felt like she lived in a world made of cardboard, and she was holding back all the time to prevent punching through the thugs she put away.

But the big guys could take it. Sure, fighting Rune and throwing her debris or dumpsters right back at her could be fun, cool and interesting, but whenever she actually got into hand to hand range, she would fold like wet toilet paper, so Vicky had to treat her with kiddie gloves. She longed to get into a fistfight with Fenja, Menja, Stormtiger or Hookwolf. To tear Kaiser's armor in two and beat him to unconsciousness with the pieces.

She wanted to go up against, and stomp, Trainwreck's face, there was no fun in punching out Squealer when she wasn't riding one of her Garbage Tanks.

Unfortunately, her mother had put the proverbial kibosh on that. She'd made it a simple challenge. If she could beat Brandish in a fight outright, she would have permission to battle all the capes that she wanted. Vicky knew, however, that it would be pointless to try. Sure, her power was a very powerful one compared to her mother's, but Brandish had years of training and experience in using her powers, and even though she didn't have something as inherently useful as super strength combined with a forcefield and flight capability, Vicky knew not to underestimate her mother's hard light.

She had learned that lesson by losing to her mother every time she made the attempt.

Admittedly, if she couldn't beat her mother, she likely would be deadweight in a fight against some of the more powerful capes. Capes like Lung and Kaiser took entire teams down when they fought - that was the reason they had such gravitas and how they came to be known as fucking terrifying individuals.

Vicky stopped in mid air. She wondered, for a moment, how someone with a power as lame as Skidmark's became an actually feared Gang Leader. The only real danger in the Merchants' gang was Squealer. Mush was tough to take down, yeah, but that was it - he had very little in the way of offensive capability. The only one who could inflict real damage was Squealer, whose vehicle-based tinkertech often produced ridiculously potent creations... if you considered that they were made of garbage.

She knew for a fact that Halbeard frequently raged about the fact that it took him a fuckton of work and clever workarounds regarding his specialization as a Tinker to create his motorcycle, while Squealer, just to spite him, built a better one out of the garbage she found wandering around town. Granted it didn't last long, she didn't take care of it and Armsmaster destroyed it just to spite her in return, but she'd proven she could do it.

Maybe Skidmark just got lucky with an incredibly powerful but also incredibly stupid girlfriend. Then again, what could draw someone to that man was a mystery. The man had teeth every color but white, didn't shower or wash his clothes, stank to high heaven and had the manners of a particularly foulmouthed and spirited goat. That was also a raging drunkard, drug addict and lunatic.

In other words, nothing about him was appealing, so what could it be? Maybe he had a really big di-

Vicky was cut off by impact with a wall. She didn't feel it, of course - forcefields are bullshit in a good way - and she was going slow enough that she didn't damage the building at all. Grumbling, she climbed a bit higher in the air and sat down on the rooftop ledge, resting a bit.

Her patrol was going into the 'shitty' category. Seriously, Brockton Bay was a wretched hive of scum and villainy on its good days, but does she get to go through the dangerous zones and beat up robbers, muggers, thugs and rapists? No, because today was Wards Patrol Day through the shitty part of town that she knew often had the most idiotic and punchable thugs, and she was banned from attending those, because of the property damage.

Bah, who cares if a wall gets smashed? Justice is more important!

Regardless, Vicky sighed. She was really bored, and nothing was happening except - oh hey, lookie there, it's a bunch of thugs holding weapons! And they've all got shaved heads, her favorite kind of victi- lawbreaker!

Indeed, she had found prey, finally, to release her frustrations upon. Now, unfortunately, she could not just go in, punching them to powder, because her sister was busy with a project for school and had elected not to participate in her patrols. So she had to hold back more than usual, which was a real bummer. So she psyched herself up, waiting for them to do something stupid, when they began to harass a black boy who was just passing through. This wasn't Empire Territory, per se - it was contested territory, the Merchants nominally laid claim to it, but they were too weak to hold one of the nicer areas down south, so the Empire was basically kicking them out, repainting their tags and taking over the low level crime scene.

Probably rearing up to kicking out the Merchant presence entirely to set up a racketeering venture.

Vicky stood up, ignoring the fact that there was no ground beneath her feet, and stretched a bit. She wasn't stiff, but it never hurts to make sure.

However, before she could dive in and perform the arrest, that is, punch some skinheads' skulls in, someone intercepted them and took control of the situation.

The first impression Vicky got was that it was a new cape, because it had to be. This person was wreathed in Ice, from head to toe. If she had to guess, she would say that it was a new trigger based mostly on the costume. It was simplistic, it had some clear design flaws and it reeked of somebody who made their own costume, so this person likely had no team behind them. Mostly because of the exposed joints and neck.

Then again, there was also something interesting - the costume was made of shaped ice with snow on top, and Vicky hadn't even heard of a Cryokinetic before. She wasn't even sure that was the right term, she couldn't remember if the prefix for ice or cold stuff was 'cryo' to begin with. That alone was interesting.

Now the fighting was nothing impressive. The new cape was clearly way in over his... her? The hair was long and the figure had a chestpiece that implied noticeable feminity, but then again, crossdressers existed...

She would assume girl, then, just to be safe in case it was one of those people with gender identity issues.

Anyway, the new cape was in way over her head, and it showed. She was simply not reacting fast enough, not giving the right reactions and, more importantly, taking way more hits than she should. Then again, Vicky mused, she'd been even worse when she'd just started out thanks to her invulnerability, and it seemed like she wasn't taking much, if any damage, even when smacked with a chain across the back.

Vicky took time to analyzing the girl's costume. It had the beginnings of stylization thrown in. The armor was of a definitely feminine shape, though if the girl was going for a Lady Knight image, Vicky could suggest a battle dress instead. It would look good AND cover her legs. Vicky was not exactly a fan of the latter when it came to her own costumes - she had arguments with her mother about the length of her dress on the daily - but she could see why lots of capes preferred to cover themselves.

Some could pull off tight costumes, like Battery, but then there were those who just... well, couldn't. Vicky remembered a cape whose power made her morbidly obese who was convinced to the point of absurdity that she was the most beautiful human in the world. Apparently, the woman hadn't exactly been pretty to begin with, but she hadn't been delusional before.

Regardless, she could at least praise the ice girl's determination in drawing the attention of the thugs towards her while their victim went for safety, hiding behind a dumpster. Also, she had a few quite interesting abilities, which she started employing once the boy was safe. She seemed capable of freezing things near her, which Vicky could think of a thousand mundane applications for (no more having to get ice from the fridge, and going to the beach would be much better when she could have chilled drinks with a handwave), and to outright make stuff out of ice, since she drew a club seemingly from thin air, but Vicky saw it grow slightly bigger in her hand - she had just formed it, and added to its size.

Cryokinesis seemed like quite an interesting power, it gave her a bunch of abilities that Vicky could see being very useful against quite a few capes. She wondered how well she'd perform against pyrokinetics, though. It didn't seem like a good opponent for her, then again, powers had a way of being weird about things.

If she was a Breaker on top of being a Shaker, she could potentially create ice that broke the laws of physics and didn't melt. That'd be fun too. Vicky could already think of making a huge waterslide into a pool. Then again, she rethought it, thinking mostly on how the ice would feel on her bare skin. Vicky's Bikinis didn't often leave much to the imagination. Might not be that great an idea, but she'd have to check. Maybe having warm water would negate the effect? Then again, maybe her invulnerability would take care of it.

Watching a newbie cape fight was quite interesting, in the end - perhaps more interesting than beating up the thugs herself, in this instance, because she was actually learning a lot from watching someone else make the mistakes she made sometimes. As soon as the girl was done, Vicky resolved to drop down, give her a pat in the back and tell her that she was doing a good job, even if she would also remark on the need for training.

However, when the fighting was almost done, Vicky got distracted by a call to her personal phone. It was her sister. Amy didn't bother wasting their time, instead just told her that there'd been an emergency at Brockton Bay General, that apparently one of the Protectorate's Capes got hurt real bad in a skirmish with Oni Lee, and that she needed a pickup to go into the hospital so she could deal with it quick enough to save whoever it was' life.

Vicky looked at the ice girl subduing the last of the thugs and shackling him in ice. "Well, I'm sure we'll meet some day anyway, she'll probably join the wards soon or something. I'm sure Dean will introduce her to me then. Or maybe we'll meet again in the streets," she said, smiling fondly at the thought of getting to meet another kickass heroine, this one around her age. Sure, she had her cousin Crystal, but she was way too busy with university and this week's boyfriend, and she had Amy, but Amy didn't get fighting like Vicky did.

Vista was just too young, and a competitor for Dean's heart, to relate to and the less said about trying to be friendly to Shadow Stalker, the better.

It was almost a shame that she'd have to wait to meet a new girl running around town. She could introduce New Wave in a more personal way, bring this girl up to speed and see her off to the wards. She considered pitching in New Wave as an option, but didn't know if her aunt Sarah would even consider taking in someone outside the family, plus the girl's identity might be a problem.

Ultimately, though, she rose into the air and flew towards her house. She'd pick Amy up, get her to the hospital and then maybe she'd get some ice cream.

That sounded good despite the mild chill. She spared one last glance to the girl, who was now on the line with the police, using the victim's phone. "Good luck, ice girl, and I hope we get to fight alongside some day," she muttered to herself as she sped up.


	13. 2-5 Icicle

**Frostbite**

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Summary: Winter raged around Taylor, who was sealed in her locker at freezing temperatures. The cold doesn't bother her anyway.

* * *

 **2.5 Icicle**

Emma's room is... almost exactly as I remember it.

Her bed's not in the same place, her dresser's moved, her TV is bigger and flatter, but it's Emma's room alright. Just as a test, I actually looked around it for a bit. Mr. Barnes said his daughter would be home soon, but that meant she had a little time to look around, see what had changed. There were a few things that were different. Emma had a computer, she hadn't had that before. There was also a picture of Emma and Sophia in some amusement park, both grinning as Emma took a selfie. I'm surprised she took the time to get it printed.

There were also a few bits of hero memorabilia, including a pretty well made figurine of Shadow Stalker.

I knew that they had released figurines of most Protectorate Heroes and Wards - they were usually made to order, though I could buy that it wouldn't be impossible for the hero it's based on to get one for free. These were expensive, and I can't honestly see Mr. Barnes paying for it. Though, what do I know, maybe he's a fan too. Admittedly, Shadow Stalker was actually one of the more popular of the wards, because her overly violent behavior tended to match up with people's feelings regarding the criminals she brutalized.

I... don't really care, myself. I don't care for her, but I don't hate her. I'm surprised Emma's such a big fan, myself. Then again, my knowledge of Emma stops when she became friends with Sophia, and Sophia would totally be a big fan of Shadow Stalker. One violent bitch to another.

As I inspected the room, I came up empty for anything of interest.

I'm getting a little bit bored now, but I don't want to make my situation worse by starting her pissed off at me, if she catches me going through her stuff like some sort of thief or something. Then again, I'm only becoming more curious by the second. I actually spent something like a minute just inspecting the Shadow Stalker figurine. It really is very well made.

It was on top of her dresser, and my curiosity is overcoming me. Might as well check it out and see if I can find something interesting. I went for the first drawer, if I remember correctly... yeah, this is indeed her underwear drawer. I blinked as it became highly apparent to me that Emma'd had a rather... interesting change in her dressing habits. When she was my friend, Emma had never really cared about being popular. She was, because she had a presence about her that just got people caught up in her whirlwind, but she hadn't dressed to impress, per se.

I'd seen her in her underwear enough to know she was just as normal with her visible clothes as she was with her underwear. In fact, during the short time we were friends after mother's passing, her mother was the one who took us both shopping for underwear. Admittedly, I've never needed to shop for bras like Emma was already starting to do, but I still couldn't take dad out to buy my underthings.

At least Emma has never brought up my Armsmaster-branded undies to tease me with. I wonder what he himself was thinking when he approved that.

These days? Emma herself was wearing underwear that I blushed up to my ears just to see, let alone imagine actually being on her body. There was a lot of sheer stuff, a lot of transparent fabric and even a few thongs. Honestly, Emma, what the hell were you even thinking buying these?

Huh. I wonder, could it be that she bought them to show off? I'd never heard about Emma having a boyfriend - but then again, the only times I came into contact with Emma were... yeah, so I wouldn't hear anything like that from her. I'd still think that I would hear about her having boyfriends. But every time there was a rumor going around about her being with a boy, it was quickly proven false.

Also people had soon learned not to pass around rumors about the terrible bitch trio, because while they usually focused their malice on me, it wasn't uncommon for Emma, Sophia and Madison to destroy someone in the court of public opinion if anyone tried to knock Emma off of her throne as Queen Bee.

Right up until Sophia was outed as a violent psychopath, Emma became a scaredy kitten and Madison proved she's basically useless without anyone to help her. Yeah, she thought up pranks for me, but whenever someone replied to her, she fell apart quicker than Emma had.

It's impressive how unbelievably fragile they had actually been. It ultimately made sense - everyone wanted to be in their place, and a lot of people wanted to 'put them in their place'. I had thought for a while that the world was against me, but it turns out that the only reason they were was because I was an universal easy target, since nobody defended me and I never fought back.

Noticing I'd gotten distracted looking at Emma's underwear, and how bad this looks, I quickly shut that drawer and pulled the one below it. Nothing interesting.

Then again, what am I expecting to find? After all, what could I even find that would be useful? For a moment, I thought I might open one of these and come across a toy or something, but then again, what would I do with a find like that? I could taunt her about it, sure, but I'm not exactly amazing at that and, well, I'm not sure I would want to find something more embarrassing. Plus, it's not like it could help.

I've been getting ready, mentally, since I had my talk with Mr. Barnes. I've since gone out on patrol once more, just to be safe that I had my emotions at least a little under control - I couldn't talk to both him and Emma in the same day, the talk with Mr. Barnes had left me mentally exhausted and I really, REALLY needed to pick myself up and get my shit together before I went for my real target. Besides, that outburst was embarrassing enough for one day. I lost control very bad.

Maybe I should've just let the cold take me and calm me down, but... I can't deny that I did feel better after airing out my issues to a listening, sympathetic ear. It also helps that Mr. Barnes is clearly trying to help in this situation, even if I'm not entirely sure about what I'm doing and neither is he.

Anything's worth trying, I guess.

I closed the drawer and went for the last one. Maybe I'm just looking for something that will make me feel better.

The last one has a bunch of stuff, as in, all sorts of stuff. Old toys, mostly, that she seems to have stored and forgotten about, going by how most of the stuff is covered in what I presume to be a very thick layer of dust. It got caught a bit when I tried pulling it out, and when I tugged a little harder, I got it all the way out.

Before I could put it back into place, though, I noticed that at the very back of it, there was a noticeable bunch of stuffed animals that were actually clean. And I recognize them. I recognize them because it's a pair of bears that I gave to her when were... six, I think. I still recall the advertisements about them, some sort of best friends forever stuff. The bears weren't anything too special, but they had a design that would only be complete if they were both put together, in a sitting position.

Frowning, I reached for them. She had shoved them at the very back of the drawer, had the dust just not gotten to them?

No, I noticed that around them everything was also covered in dust. I grabbed the bear closest to me and I pulled it up. The other one came along, tied with something along the arm. Left for the one I was holding, right for the one dangling.

I frowned. Harder. It was a multicolored bracelet. The stereotypical Best Friends Forever bracelet that dumb children who trusted untrustworthy people made. I know for a fact, after all, I remember making it for her. I remember very well, because I also remember trading it for one she had made in return. And I also remember her ripping it apart in front of me. I could see where it'd been cut and broken, it'd been carefully put back together.

Below the bears was a picture. One of both Emma and myself, along with our mothers, all giving the camera smiles. I picked it up. I remember this trip, we went to a national park, I can't remember which. I can see my own smile is missing two of my teeth, Emma still had all but one of hers, but it was one of her front teeth and the gap was incredibly noticeable and obvious.

Before I knew it, my finger was tracing Emma's smile. How long had it been since I've seen her genuinelly smile at me?

How long has it been since I haven't dreaded her smiles?

Too long.

It has been entirely too long.

I put the drawer back into place and closed it. I put the items I took from it on Emma's bed, and I wondered.

Why?

Why would she keep this? All of it? What meaning did it have for her? I wondered, had she kept her to use as ammo some day? To perhaps hurt me more deeply by visibly destroying everything that she and I had shared? But what meaning did it have, when she had already gone ahead and betrayed my trust so brazenly?

I can't make sense of it. I can't understand it. I can't even begin to wrap my head around it.

For the past year and a half, Emma has been nothing but a completely awful monster of a human being to me. She did the most literal cutting of our bond she could when she ripped apart our friendship bracelet in front of me.

But here it was. She had thrown the pieces apart, but here it was, carefully put back together, in my hand.

I figured she would burn the bears I had given her as a gift so long ago, or give them away, or anything, but here they were, still in pristine condition, as they had been every time I'd seen her since I'd given them to her. It was pretty much the first gift I ever remember giving her, and I remember doing chores around the house to save up enough money to buy them for her.

I remember her delight when she saw them. I remember her hugging me and even going to the point it was painful when mother told her in unsubtle terms that I'd done a great deal of work in order to pay for her gift.

Back then, mom had told me that for Emma the cost of the gift itself wasn't important, that what was important was the effort that went into getting it for her. I believed that.

Emma seems to have agreed, too, because she had treasured them since.

I lifted one of the bears and looked at it. It had a nameplate, with my name engraved on it. I grabbed the other and put them side to side. It also had a nameplate, this one with Emma's name on it. When you made them hug, the nameplates joined.

My eyes were closed, and I laid down on her bed. It's not an unfamiliar bed. Emma has always had this bed, apparently she'd had it since her older sister had asked for a bigger one. I knew that, I remembered that tantrum, and I remembered Emma getting happy because we'd both fit on her bed so I wouldn't have to sleep on the floor during sleepovers, which means she wouldn't have to sleep on the floor because she couldn't bring herself to make me sleep on the floor while she slept on a bed, and I wouldn't let her put me on her bed if she would stay on the floor.

What happened to you, Emma? What changed you?

I wonder, now.

Have you shared this bed with Sophia, Emma? Have you hugged each other under the covers like we used to do?

Did you read those adult-oriented magazines using a flashlight with her like we used to?

I wonder, now.

Was there anything that you kept special, between us? Anything else?

You kept these. The bears, the bracelet, the photo.

You kept these.

Why?

That question plagues me.

I don't know, but I'll find out. I'll find out and I'll fix it.

I could hear the lock clicking. I could hear Emma talking with her father outside her room. I turned my head and I saw her walk in, dressed quite inappropriately, much to her father's disapproval as he ushered her into the room while she complained about his issues with her dress choice.

"Ugh, dad, it's not like I'm wearing a microskirt or anything," Emma said, frustrated, as she opened the door and walked in, looking at her father. "Besides, I'm going with the whole group, I'm not even gonna stand out amongst them."

"Emma, I know I'm your father, but I can say you do stand out, and that's not just because you're always the most beautiful in my eyes. There's a reason why you've got a modeling career," her father said, his voice stern. "But for now, you have a guest."

"A guest?" Emma asked. "But I just came in and there was nobody-"

"He's talking about me, Emma," I interrupted, sitting on her bed fully. "We need to talk."

She flinched and looked at her father, but he'd already closed the door. I heard the click of the lock.

"T-Taylor," she said, turning towards me, her eyes focused on mine. I can see her nearly shivering. "What- Daddy, you can't-"

"Emma, you will not step out of that room until you fix your issues. I've been ignorant of your situation with Taylor for far too long," her father said through the door.

"DAD! Let me out!" Emma shouted.

I sighed. "Come on, Emma, what are you afraid of?"

Emma nearly collapsed against the door. She looked at me.

I could see the terror in her eyes, and it hurt my heart to see her like that.

But more than anything, I was terrified, myself.

Because when she looked at me like that, when she showed how truly afraid she was of me...

During that moment, I felt it.

A spark. A spark of satisfaction.

And that is the most distressing thing of all.

* * *

Incidentally, updates might slow down, since I just bought NieR Automata.


	14. 2-6 Icicle

**Frostbite**

* * *

Summary: Winter raged around Taylor, who was sealed in her locker at freezing temperatures. The cold doesn't bother her anyway.

* * *

 **2.6 Icicle**

I advanced towards her.

"What," I repeated, "are you afraid of?"

"A-Afraid!?" Emma challenged. It might've been convincing if she hadn't stumbled and if she wasn't subtly pressing her back against the door. "Afraid!? I'm not afraid! I'm not afraid, much less of you!"

I could feel my eyebrow raise of its own volition. "Oh, really?" I asked, "then why are you trying to run away?"

"I'm not running! I just don't want to be in the same room as you!" she shouted. "You smell, you're lame, you're a weak little-"

I blinked. "I took a shower before coming here, I am pretty sure I can use all of my limbs to their full capability and, more importantly, I'm physically stronger than you. So, Emma, give me something that's not bullshit."

"That's-" Emma narrowed her eyes and glared at me. "You don't understand, you're prey, you'll never understand."

"Sophia said that, Emma. Now I'm here and she's not," I said, crossing my arms and glaring at her.

"Because you were a coward and you set her a trap!" Emma nearly screeched.

"No, because I was smart and took advantage of her short temper. Oh, yeah, she's physically stronger than me, no doubt, my jaw still hurts," I said, rubbing the place where Sophia had punched me, I'm not joking about that. She's definitely the strongest person I've fought so far, and I've fought people twice her size. "But what does that matter? Like I said, I'm here, and she's gone."

Emma seemed to gain a second wind. "So that's it, huh. Now that she's gone, you're coming back for revenge. You're still afraid of her! Well, when Daddy gets her out of the mess you put her in, you'll run scampering back to your hole, you, you-"

"I'm not afraid of her. She might come after me again. She might even beat the crap out of me. But she can't threaten me anymore. I am not afraid of her anymore," I explained, taking another step towards her. "Not like you are."

"W-What!? Are you insane on top of being stupid, Taylor?" Emma said, her tone more desperate than smug. "Sophia's my friend, she won't- She helped me! I'm not scared of her!"

I couldn't help it. I laughed. "You're fucking terrified," I said. "You're fucking terrified, but not that she'll hit you, no, you're terrified that she'll leave you."

"She's my friend, she'd never-"

"You were my friend too, you said you'd never leave me, and yet here we are," I stated, clenching my right hand and then relaxing it. The pain from it helps me keep focused, lets me have a clear enough head to feel the grasp of my cold suffocating the fires of anger. "If you could betray nearly a decade of friendship, Emma, what makes you think Sophia won't betray you once she gets tired of you? In fact, you agree with me, don't you? You're terrified that she'll get bored of you and throw you away."

"Sh-shut up! It's nothing like that! I outgrew you! I discarded you, I threw you away, because that's what you deserve! You- you were just a practice friend!"

"Was I? Was I, Emma?" I asked, my tone coming out softer than I intended. I dug into my pocket and pulled out a bracelet.

Her eyes widened. "What's- what's that?"

"I'm surprised you don't know," I said, feigning ignorance. "After all, I made it for you. It's a bit frayed, isn't it? Almost like someone had torn it apart and then put it back together, maybe after looking for all the pieces out of sight," I stated.

"That's- my mom, yeah, my mom put it back together, she thought we were just having a spat and I didn't want to correct her so-"

"I've known you too long, Emma," I said, shaking my head. "You're usually a better liar than this. Besides, idiot, I found this, what makes you think I didn't find these?" I asked, reaching for the bed behind me and grabbing the bears, holding one in each hand. "Again, I know these, I gave them to you."

"W-Well, they're cute bears, and simply casting you off wasn't worth destroying them," Emma tried, but I can already tell that it's bullshit.

"What about this?" from my other pocket, I pulled out the picture. I hadn't noticed it before, so entranced by the image itself, but the picture has noticeable stains in it. I waved it in front of myself, and saw her flinch and turn her head. "Not even an excuse here, Emma?"

"Sh-shut up," Emma muttered. "You don't know anything, just, just shut up!"

"No, I don't think I will," I said, taking a deep breath. "For all this time, you've been obsessing over me. I never understood why. I thought you hated me. I thought you despised me utterly and completely, and I never understood why. I loved you, you know? You were my sister."

She slumped to the ground.

I didn't pay much attention, and continued. "I never really wanted to know either. I was too caught up in how much my life sucked, I never really stopped to think. I had wondered if something crawled up your butt or something, but I never stopped to think that maybe it was something I did. Not seriously, anyway - I wondered if I'd offended you in some way, but honestly, I've only recently started thinking that it might have seriously been something I did, or rather, something that I didn't do."

"Y-Yes, you- you're-" she tried, but couldn't put it to words. "You're weak," she said, finally.

"Is that it?" I asked, tilting my head. "I don't buy that," I said. "I came back one day and you were completely different Emma. I was gone. Something happened to you. And I wasn't there. I wasn't there for you when you needed me. I should've been there. You were there for me, I should've been there for you, and I wasn't."

"Shut up! You're- you're just a weakling, you wouldn't- you couldn't-" she shook her head, "shut up, Taylor!"

"But I could have, Emma. I should have. I should've been here, when you needed me. I need to know. What happened? What happened to you?"

"Shut up shut up shut up! You don't deserve to know, you- you- useless-"

I uncrossed my arms. Not the time to get angry. I need to sink further. "Don't I? You hate me for it, I need to know what it is. I need to know where I failed!"

"Are you just never going to shut up!?" she screeched, her eyes puffy and her nails digging into the skin of her legs, "don't you understand?! I'm done with you, Taylor! Forever! I'm just- putting you in your place!"

"Tell me what happened to you," I ordered.

"Shut up! NOTHING, OKAY!?" she shouted, "NOTHING HAPPENED! I met Sophia, and she showed me the truth of the world, and I learned that you were worthless and useless a-and-"

She would've probable continued.

The sharp crack of skin on skin would've distracted her. But the pain of my slap probably distracted her more. "Let's try this again shall we?" I asked, grabbing the front of her blouse and pulling her up. "I've tried the nice and kind approach, but honestly, Emma? I'm done with your crap. I want my friend back. I am going to have my friend back. Sophia stole you from me, but you're mine, and I won't let her have you," I said, closing in and staring right into her eyes. "So now I'm going to do this in the more direct route. Tell me right now."

"Who do you-"

I slapped her again. "I didn't ask. I gave you an order. Tell me what happened, right now."

She began another tirade of insults and protestations. I slapped her again.

This happened twice more until she was openly crying and her cheeks were very red. They might bruise. They probably would bruise.

"That- that alley," she muttered.

"What? What happened in the alley, Emma?" I asked, shaking her a bit. "Tell me right now!"

And so she began.

She told me that she was talking with me on the phone, while her father drove her home at night. She didn't recall why she was out at night, what they were doing, anything of the sort. She only recalled the event itself, burned as it was into her memory.

She told me that some asshole in red and green threw himself on top of her father's car's hood, rolling around and acting obviously hurt, causing her father to stop the car and get out of it so he could ascertain the situation. Then they were quickly surrounded by other assholes in red and green, and Emma herself was forced to get out of the car.

She told me of how they reduced her father, brought him down to his knees and put a gun to his head, while a group surrounded her. All male. My stomach sank as she told the tale, and I could feel the shame and misery radiating off of her as she remembered. For a moment, I regretted, utterly, forcing her to tell and thus relive the tale. It was horrifying for me, seeing her suffer like this, and I cannot imagine how much she herself must be suffering just by remembering it. I almost asked her to stop, but I need this.

She needs this.

We both need this. We need to clear the air, we need to make things better, and this is the only way. It hurts, it's painful and it'll damage both of us, but we can heal together, I will make sure of that. I wasn't here before, but I will be here for her now. This is an open wound, it's still bleeding and it's still infected, rotting her from the inside.

She spoke more, of how they put the knife to several parts of her body. How they had said she was 'too pretty', and needed to be hurt, to be made 'ugly', for reasons that are as nebulous as their motivations. I understood now, as did she, what their objective was. Red and green was the ABB. They ran a prostitution ring, and rumor was that they didn't have a single willing prostitute amongst their ranks. Exaggeration, probably, but close enough to the truth.

I grabbed Emma's shoulders as she told the tale, too lost in her own word, and pulled her towards me.

My friend had almost been forced to become a prostitute.

The ABB had almost stolen my friend, had destroyed her, had broken her utterly and nearly turned her into nothing more than a doll for their own amusement.

She continued. Her ears, her lips, her eyes, her hair, even her breasts - all of them had been pointed at, fondled, caressed and threatened by knives and hands.

The tone of the story changed, and Emma's disposition did as well, as she filled with both anger and what I assume to be pride and spoke of how she had snapped. When they had told her that they would 'sample the goods', forcing her father to watch, something within her gave out and all restraint and fear was put aside as she tried her hardest to fight them off.

She spoke, then, with reverence, as she was saved by Sophia, who was passing by. I don't think she even realizes she just outed her best friend as a cape. I don't think I can bring myself to care. Sophia is Shadow Stalker, this should be gigantic, this should piss me off globally, this should be the point at which I would curse the world and start a crusade against the establishment that had protected my bullies because one of them was a so-called Hero.

But honestly?

Shadow Stalker saved my best friend from becoming an unwilling prostitute. Shadow Stalker saved Emma from a fate worse than death.

I don't care that Sophia Hess is a barely human monster of a person.

She saved Emma, and that is all that matters to me.

I hate her, still, for filling Emma's head with stupid ideas. For trying to steal Emma from me. But just for that alone, for that one act of heroism, I will give her the benefit of the doubt. Just once.

Emma then told me of her conversation with Shadow Stalker, later. Told me of how Sophia explained to her the workings of the world. How she explained about predators and prey, and what separated them, and told Emma that she was strong, that she had fought, that she was a survivor.

For a moment, I wondered just what had happened to Sophia herself, that led to such a view of the world.

But now's not the time for that.

Emma continued, then. And the picture unravelled before me. Emma had explained to Sophia about her friend, about me, and Sophia had said that I sounded like a weakling.

It filled my heart with warmth when Emma, now finally broken down and merely vomiting out the information I wanted, spoke of how she had defended me. Of how she had insisted to Sophia that I was strong.

And I remembered, then, a conversation I'd had with her. When, talking about my mother, she told me that she admired me, because I was still living even through that tragedy. I remember explaining to her that it was just a front of strength, that it was thanks to her, that I could only be strong because she urged me to. That I had cried myself to sleep for an entire week.

She had taunted me for that, had told that to her friends.

But the picture is becoming clearer.

Emma came up with a plan.

She would prove to Sophia that I am strong. That I am a predator, a survivor. That I could be their friend, because I was as strong as them.

I understand, now.

"You love me, don't you Emma? You never hated me."

"Never," she said, sobbing. "I never could, I couldn't- Taylor, I love you," she said. She didn't even know she was nuzzling my chest, sobbing against my shirt. "You're my best friend, I love you more than anyone," she said, "I wanted... I wanted to make you strong... so that... so that what happened to me could never happen to you. I could've never taken it if you broke like that, so... I had to, I needed to, I had to break you, so that you could be stronger... I knew... I knew you would hate me, and I didn't care."

I closed my eyes.

"I didn't care, because even if you hate me... you would be strong, you would be safe, and I- I- I could accept that, I could accept losing you, if that meant you would be safe," she said.

"It didn't work, Emma," I said, rubbing her back with my hand. "I love you, too," I said. "I will always love you. You're a moron, but apparently, so am I," I said, sighing.

"Taylor," she muttered, "you should hate me. I deserve to be hated. I should be hated. I'm just... I'm just a coward, I'm pretending to be strong, because I'm afraid. Sophia saved me, I was weak, but she saved me, and she- she thinks I'm strong, and when she knows I'm just a weakling, she'll let me go, and- and- she's strong, I'm not, I need her, I need her to protect me, but she wouldn't protect you, too, so, so, so-"

"I'm strong now, Emma," I said. "Thanks to you," I murmured, "I'm much stronger. I'll protect you. I'll protect you from them... If... if they try to touch you, Emma, I'll kill them. I'll kill them all," I promised.

"B-But, Taylor- you-"

"No, Emma, don't worry about me," I said, showing her my left hand. I showed her my power. The cold surged and formed into an ice knife. "I am strong now, I have power. I can protect you, better than Sophia ever could... you don't need to fear anymore, Emma, because you're mine, now, you hear?2

"Taylor..." she muttered. "It's beautiful... my friend, you've always been strong, even if you denied it... we could never break you, no matter what we did. No matter what I said or did, nothing... nothing could break you."

"You almost did," I muttered. "But when I was about to give up, in that locker, I saw something, something beautiful, something I can't even describe. I was empty then, Emma. I died, I think, for a moment. But when I saw it, it filled me completely. I was at my lowest point, but... you know what they say, right?"

Emma gave me a tearstained smile. "Your mom liked sayings like it, didn't she?" she muttered. "When you've hit the bottom..."

"The only way to go is up," I finished. "And I think it applies, don't you?"

She locked eyes with me. I can see tears still flowing. "Taylor... How... how can you do this? How can you... why? Why... why are you here? Why are you here with me? Why... why did you spare me? You could've put us in our place, broken us... with this power, you could've joined the Wards, and if you'd talked about what Sophia did to you... she's probationary, she's on thin ice..." we broke for a giggle.

Neither of us could hold it, it was a bit of a nervous giggle as well.

"How can you forgive me, Taylor?" she asked.

I don't think in all of our life, I've seen Emma more sincere than at that very moment.

"Because I love you, idiot."

And I don't think I've ever been more sincere, myself.

She began wailing, clutching me like a lifeline, like I would be gone if she let go.

I grabbed onto her just as tightly.


	15. 2-X Telltale

**Frostbite**

* * *

Summary: Winter raged around Taylor, who was sealed in her locker at freezing temperatures. The cold doesn't bother her anyway.

* * *

 **2.X Telltale**

"Are you certain of what you're doing?" Brian asked, as he put down his helmet and began the process of taking off his costume.

Lucky him, Tattletale mused, that he didn't wear a bodysuit. Getting in and out of her costume was a pain. Aesthetics must, however. She gave him a grin and threw herself into the couch. Regent protested, but his attention was soon grabbed by the game he was playing, as he returned to violently and brutally ripping apart zombies. Not as good as doing it to people, he claimed, but he'd take what he could get.

Fortunately, he was on their side. He could potentially be a terrifying enemy.

Brian sighed and put his jacket on a rack. Regent, he was still in costume after all, would later complain about him leaving his stuff everywhere instead of just taking a goddamn room.

"Are we going to have this conversation every day?" Tattletale asked. "I mean, you know you can't dissuade me, our boss is even on my corner on this one," she spoke, stretching her sore arms and leaning back against the couch. "I don't know what your hangup is."

"You said it yourself," Brian said, sitting leaning against the closest wall. "She's psychologically damaged."

Lisa took off her mask and laughed. "So are you. So am I. I don't even need to mention Alec," who grunted in response, "and Rachel is a solidified mass of psychological issues."

Brian sighed. "I guess it's just that she's not like... well, us. We've been made tougher by the hardship in our lives, but her... she gives me this distinct impression of fragility," he admitted.

"Are you stealing my schtick now, Brian?" Lisa asked, raising one eyebrow. "Your instinct is spot on. On a certain level, she certainly does have a certain level of... fragility, but if I'm right, and I usually am," she quipped, watching him frown, amused by his displeasure at her reminder, "she's not going to break so easily. If I've got her pegged right, then no amount of torture would ever break her, and unless I read her seriously wrong, her own neurosis means that she would rather die than betray someone she considers a friend."

"But still, she's the heroic type, she can't stop talking about how much she wants to do good," which Brian liked in a person, after all, if you set out to do evil you had to be either very dumb or very fucked in the head, "and if she learns we're villains-"

"She knows," Lisa said, giving him a smile. "She's aware we're not exactly law abiding citizens, anyway. She thinks we're a group of criminals. It's the cutest thing, she's already planning on befriending us and making us change our ways, if she can, or at least try to steer us towards less evil behaviors," she continued, chuckling a bit. "She doesn't know entirely who we are and doesn't have any idea that we're parahumans. We just need to spin that particular reveal right."

Brian sighed. "I still don't get why you think she's so important. Yes, I get that Cryokinesis is a rare power, I think I can only recall one Cryokinetic and it was a member of the Slaughterhouse Nine," he muttered, frowning, "and even then, I can only remember because it was newsworthy that the only well known Cryokinetic was in the Slaughterhouse Nine," he added. "I still don't know why that is so important to you."

"I never did explain that, did I?" Lisa asked. "Well, I can make it simple. I'm probably the only person in the world who has any idea how powerful that girl actually is," she continued. "And this harkens back to the point I've explained time and again. I want her on my side, on our side."

Regent snorted, as he paused his game. "That sounds like you're scared of her," he said, as he put down the controller and stretched a bit.

"Well, I have nothing to fear from her, if I'm her friend," Lisa said.

Regent finally took off his mask, tossing it aside. "We just got done stealing from Kaiser, and you weren't scared then. Is this girl really that scary?" he asked. "It's just ice."

"Well, not right now," Lisa amended. "But since we're all, except Rachel anyway, here now, we might as well begin brainstorming her turn to villainy."

"Ooh, planning the fall of an innocent soul," Alec said, "I like that. Then again, you guys won't let me have my fun and put her into a situation that really forces her hand."

Brian frowned. "I don't like the idea of turning an idealistic and nice girl to, well, villainy," he admitted. "Even if she'd make a valuable and powerful ally. I thought you wanted to help her, Lisa."

"You know that I do," Lisa said, getting up from the couch. She went to the kitchen. "Either of you want anything?"

"Bring me a bag of doritos, I feel like some Halo time is due," Alec called.

"How about Mountain Dew?" Lisa asked.

"No, thanks, if I wanted to taste old sock I'd just ask Brian for his," Alec snarked. "Get some water instead."

Brian remained silent.

Lisa was back soon enough with a bag of doritos and a bottle of cold water, both of which she threw at Alec, who caught them easily. "Anyway, she might take a few knocks, but she'll be better for it afterwards. Besides, she has the one thing we lack - dedicated firepower. You can't say you wouldn't want to have her on speed dial if we have to go up against a heavy hitter that we can't easily run from."

The group's leader couldn't deny that several operations had become overly complicated because of their lack of firepower - Bitch's dogs could only do so much. It didn't help that they were starting to gain a reputation as cowards who ran as soon as the going got tough, and Rachel was becoming increasingly more antsy about the small takes they had from interrupted jobs because they needed her dogs for a getaway and thus couldn't commit them to fighting.

Even Alec was whining more and more as Brockton Bay became more accustomed to, and thus better prepared for, dealing with them and their powers.

"How much firepower are we talking about anyway?" Alec asked as he opened the bag.

"If I can get her in the right idea with how to use her power, and train her to do it... well, she'll be at least A-class. And even then, that's with my best guesses at her power, which I am deliberatelly lowballing. I can already tell she will be a VERY powerful cape."

"Powerful enough to get us undue attention," Brian said. "I like her, she's a nice girl, I don't know if I want that kind of pressure on either her or us, honestly. Part of the reason we get away with what we do is that most people consider us basically harmless."

"Which kinda sucks," Alec said, speaking through a mouthful of doritos, "since, y'know, we're the lame team that runs away at the first sign of trouble and all."

"It's kept us alive and out of prison, and you can't say we're not making a killing," Brian retorted.

"Yeah, but if I'm reading the boss right, he's been stepping up our game. Soon enough, we're going to be getting into fights, and I'd really like to have the ability to boast some ranged attacks, at least, without having to bring guns in. Too much lethality, now that's a very big problem," Lisa explained.

Brian nodded.

So did Alec. Everyone knew that the rule of escalation went out the window when you start killing capes.

Capes respected those rules for a reason.

"Anyway, do you guys have any ideas? I've got my own, obviously, but I still want to hear what both of you've got."

Brian sighed. "I guess we'll have to go this route. The last thing I want is for the Boss to consider us not worth his money, which he probably will if we don't improve our team. It's not like we're going to get lucky and have someone pull our bacon out of the fire right as we need them, we need to be proactive."

"I'm not sure," Alec said, "a reduced take every job might seriously impair our operations. If we continue to split evenly..."

"The way I'm thinking it," Lisa said, "we won't have to... Y'see, it's best that Ice Girl doesn't 'belong' to the Undersiders, not as a team member anyway. It'd be bad for her if she came out as a villain. Besides, I'll ease her into learning how to use her powers to fly. If I told her straight away how to do it, she'd suspect something's up - much as she doesn't experiment with her powers for some reason, she's a sharp one, so she'd eventually start thinking my bullshit intuition isn't natural."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Alec asked.

"I think I get it. She'll be pretty mobile, won't she?" Brian asked.

Lisa nodded.

"Your idea is that you can call her and she'd show up to support us almost as if by random, so she would just be a bystander, instead of someone actively involved..." he muttered. "So she can help us without being seen as our ally."

"It'll be a bit difficult to pull off every time, obviously, and we should limit our use of that tactic since too much would cause people to wonder, but that's the general gist of it, I intend for her to be our secret trump card when we can't avoid fights for some reason," Lisa explained.

"Okay, I'm in then," Alec said. "Now, give me some real dirt on this girl, so we can get to working..."

Lisa smiled.

Plan A was in motion.

* * *

Yes, I know it's short, but NieR Automata and Guda Guda Honnouji have taken most of my time all week. I was only able to post what I posted through this time because I got a few short bursts of writing while at work.


	16. 3-1 Hypothermia

**Frostbite**

* * *

Summary: Winter raged around Taylor, who was sealed in her locker at freezing temperatures. The cold doesn't bother her anyway.

* * *

 **3.1 Hypothermia**

Brian asked why I had been so intense in training and exercise these last few days. I didn't answer him until the end of the week, when we'd have a full 'team' meeting again. I'm... surprised how easy they are to get along with. Even Rachel seems to be mostly okay, though her demeanor is at absolute best gruff and usually downright surly.

But she's been invaluable when it came to get my Ice Wolves right. Her knowledge about dogs and their behavior, which did include Wolves because apparently, to her dogs are dogs, even if they are huge, scary and likely to eat your face. Apparently my description of wolves as all of that echoed her, except she said it with fondness while I maintain a healthy... respect for wolves and large dogs in general.

What? Just because I'm sure I can beat the crap out of any wild animal that comes at me doesn't mean I actually want to do it.

There's only one kind of animal I want to put down, and it wears red and green.

I've talked with Alan, Emma was pulled out from school for the time being. From what he told me, she's apparently getting treatment for PTSD. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. She's been hurt so badly.

If I had been there for her from the start, if I hadn't been feeling so sorry for myself that I couldn't see past my own damn nose, this wouldn't be a problem at all.

But I can't do anything for her. I don't know how to help her. I'll be there for her, I'll be the rock she needs me to be, hell I'll be a goddamn iceberg she can use as an anchor if need be.

Even a brief conversation with Lisa had reaffirmed my conviction - I helped Alan push Emma into therapy, I insisted on it and I attended the first session and held her hand through most of it, and it ate at my heart that I even had to do it, it pissed me off, it really pisses me off. I've been training harder than ever all week.

All week, I've had a very busy schedule. I ran and performed exercises with Brian in the mornings, I went to school, I visited Emma when we were both available and I performed quick patrols. Three times I performed longer patrols where I found nothing, but on Monday and Wednesday I cut them short after dealing with street drug peddlers both times.

Saturday broke my routine, I spent most of the morning with Emma, until she had to leave for a session. She liked her therapist. I'm not entirely sure I like the woman, myself - she doesn't seem to like me either.

As soon as she left, though, I left myself. I had a very specific destination in mind, the place at the boat graveyard where I'll meet Lisa, Brian, Alec and Rachel.

They were there.

"You've been very tense and angry all week," Lisa said, dispensing with courtesies. "Spill, hero, what's got your panties in a bunch?"

I sighed. "I have a goal now," I said.

Lisa frowned. "Wasn't your goal to be a hero?" she asked, her arms crossing and her face losing all traces of smug self satisfaction.

"It was," I admitted. "I've got another one, more personal, now."

"Well?" Alec asked, "What've you got for us?"

"The ABB hurt my best friend," I said. I won't give them more than that. But they need to understand. "I want to hurt them back."

Lisa frowned.

Brian shook his head. "That's... that's kind of a bad idea," he admitted. "Look, I get you're pissed, but-"

"I don't care," I admitted freely. I know it's a bad idea. The ABB's leader is famous for stomping the entire Protectorate team in his first showing in Brockton Bay. He's also famous for, ironically, losing at least once to every faction. Well, losing is a bit of a misnomer - he was forced to retreat. He still stood undefeated in actual combat.

I'll have to change that if I want to crush his gang. I'll have to be a Dragonslayer in order to achieve my goal.

"You're suicidal," Alec said, though his tone was jovial. "Or crazy. One or the other."

"Delusional, more like it," Brian said, "I'm not trying to be an ass about this, but it's the truth."

"You're serious," Lisa said. "Shit," she muttered. "You're not going to listen to me even if I tell you that you're just going to get yourself killed."

"I don't care," I stated, again. "They hurt my best friend. They nearly broke her. She became a hateful monster because of what they did. So I'm taking revenge for her. She can't fight them. I can."

"Fuck," Lisa muttered. "This friend, she's more than a friend to you, isn't she?"

"She's my sister in all but blood," I replied.

"And whatever it is, you're certain it's your fault it happened, because fuck of course it is," Lisa shouted, bringing her hands up to massage her temples as she began to rentlessly pace, her thick soled shoes making noticeable splashing sounds on the humid ground. Huh. I hadn't realized it'd rained earlier today.

I looked around.

Alec seemed amused for some reason. Brian looked uncomfortable. Rachel... Rachel was merely sitting on what I think used to be a chunk of a ship's hull but was now nothing more than flat metal sticking from the ground. I'm not entirely sure what goes through her head.

"Well, the only thing I can do here is at least try to get you to stop for a second and think. Look, listen,"

I began to protest, but she moved faster than I thought possible and put a finger up to my lips, I went crosseyed trying to look at it, it was a very uncomfortable feeling. She then used that finger to push my glasses up into proper position and then grabbed at one of my cheeks and pulled it.

"I said listen, so shut up and listen," she said.

Her tugging on my cheek was beggining to hurt, but she let go just then.

"This is the score as it is. You can beat Lung as you are right now. But the problem is that the only way you have of doing so right now? It's very, very lethal. Because you cannot, and I repeat CANNOT, afford to fight a battle longer than thirty seconds against him. Once he starts to ramp up, you're toast. His heat can't melt your ice, but he can cut through steel and I don't think your ice will give him much more pause, once he gets going. Plus, he's fast as shit, too, so I can already tell you that you won't even be able to get away."

I frowned. "I don't-"

"This is important, just listen to me okay?" she said, silencing me again. "Okay. I'll help you. Fuck it, I'll help you take down the ABB, I'll help you subdue Lung, I'll even call the PRT myself and have them bring goddamn Armsmaster along so we can be sure Lung gets put away. He's an asshole, but he does his job in exemplary fashion," Lisa said, grabbing at both of my cheeks this time and pulling me down a bit so we were eye to eye. "Now, though? Right now Oni Lee will cut you up and serve you for breakfast. You can't take them right now. You can't afford to piss them off any more than you already have. They probably already know that you're patrolling their territory, but their street level operations are numerous enough that they barely notice it."

"So I've been doing nothing, basically?" I protested. "I've-"

"You've been doing more than the Protectorate does, if it'll make you feel better," Lisa said. "They patrol, sometimes, but they tend to stay away from non-cape crime. The Wards sometimes slip by and manage to bag a common criminal, and Shadow Stalker has a bit of a reputation for screwing up low level thugs."

Shadow Stalker. Sophia. That bitch that I owe Emma's continued existence to. Fuck, now I don't know how I should feel about her.

"She's a very scummy person," Lisa supplied, "but she's at least got the right targets in mind."

Fuck you, Lisa, I'm not a right target!

Calm down, Taylor. I let myself sink a little bit into the cold to let myself think more clearly. Of course she's saying that, she doesn't know that she's Sophia Hess, dumbass. Calm down, calm down. Breathe, in, breathe out.

Okay. I think I've got it.

"You're going to help me?" I asked, trying to focus back on my mission. I have to focus on my mission, right now. Leave your personal feelings about a heroine that could prove to be useful for later, Taylor, you've got shit to do.

"Yes," Lisa said, "but I want to make a few things clear. If you go out half cocked like this? You, me, Brian, Alec and Rachel? We're all dead. They'll get you, they'll torture our names out of you, they'll find us and they'll torture and kill us too," she said.

I can feel my muscles twitch involuntarily. "I'm not-"

"I'm not saying you're weak," she cut me off, glaring straight into my eyes. "They're strong, hero. Very strong. The ABB only has two capes, with rumors of a possible new recruit, and they're still keeping the Empire, with all fifteen or so of theirs, in check. Do you get where I'm going?"

I frowned. I get it. They're strong. Lung's a motherfucker, I know this, can we please stop focusing on how strong they are and start focusing on how to take them down instead?

"I also won't help you break the rules to get to them, so you'll have to take them on in either a straight fight, or find some way to get someone else to help you with that," she said.

The rules. I think she's talking about the unwritten rules. The Rules that prevent escalation. Then again, do I care about that?

I don't know. I don't know if I want to rock the boat that much, my problem is only with the ABB, but it'd probably make life real difficult for me if I broke the rules.

It would put Emma in danger again, simply from association with a rule breaker, I think. Hell, it would put Lisa and Brian in danger. I'm not sure I mind Alec and Rachel being in danger, but Lisa and Brian have been nothing but helpful, I can't do that to them. And, well, it wouldn't be very heroic to put people in danger, no matter how criminal they are, for my own selfish gain. I also don't have proof that they're criminals, is assuming they are bad too?

Whatever, now's not the time.

"So those are my conditions for helping. Can you deal with that?"

Irrationally, I got an impulse to tell her that if she wouldn't help me do it my way, I would find someone that would. I quickly squashed that errant thought and instead let myself sink down into the cold. "Yes," I said, my tone almost as frigid as I was inside. "I think it's for the best. I'll train. I'll become strong. And I'll defeat them out in the open to humiliate them. You've got a good idea."

"You're crazy," Alec muttered. "You think you can take an entire gang on your own?"

"She's not on her own," Brian answered. "We'll help her. I'll help, Lisa already said she would."

"I'm in," Rachel said. "I'll help you with the ABB," she said, her eyes narrowing into a glare as she met my stare, "if you help with Hookwolf's dogfighting rings."

I could feel my own disgust at the very idea of such a thing. I've never been one for pets. Not really. But there's something that's inherently evil about twisting poor animals into blood-lust addled beasts that cared only for attacking and killing one another, and all of it done at the behest of madmen to entertain themselves and each other.

I nodded, slowly. I get it. If she wants to eliminate them, she's absolutely going to need cape support. I'm not sure how well I'd do, as an ice user, against a guy who is literally made of metal blades. But if I can do something, I'll help. Not only because she's helping me in return, but also because it's the right thing to do.

Apparently, they know me well enough to not ask me for help in anything that I can't see as vigilante, if not outright heroic, work.

"Ah, whatever, I'll help too," Alec said, shrugging. "Way I figure it, this'll put us in the big leagues, and maybe we'll start seeing more dough roll our way."

"What's he talking about?" I asked. No, seriously. What does he mean? Put them in the big leagues?

"Well, Taylor, I'm pretty sure you're already aware that we're criminals, right?" Lisa asked. "Well, I had planned on telling you to this way later, once you were sure we can be trusted, so that we could trust you in return, but you've certainly sped up my plans quite a bit."

"What... what are you talking about, Lisa?" I asked, frowning involuntarily. I schooled my facial expression into one of careful neutrality.

"Well, you know me by that name," Lisa said, "but most people refer to me as Tattletale," she explained. "I am a Cape, Taylor."

"You're a cape," I muttered, "this is your gang, then?"

"No," Lisa said. "I'm not the leader here."

"That'd be me," Brian said. "I go by Grue," he explained. "Rachel goes by Bitch, and if you've got to legally stay PG, she goes by Hellhound, but since we're not the PRT," he said, shrugging, "Last, and very much least, is Regent over there."

"Do you always gotta do that?" Alec asked, frowning at Brian.

"You can take it, that makes you an acceptable target," Brian said.

"I guess," Alec said. "Is that a compliment? Because it feels like a backhanded compliment."

"It's both a compliment and an insult," Lisa said. "Well, Taylor... nice to meet you, we're the Undersiders."

"We do corporate espionage, small scale heists and we also run from our enemies, a lot," Grue stated, a note of humor in his tone. "We're Supervillains."

"Villains," I muttered. "You're all villains. I've been working with villains. I've revealed my identity to villains," I muttered, bringing my hands to my face. "Goddamn, I'm the greatest failure as a hero this entire fucking city has ever seen," I admitted as I let myself fall to the ground. I don't care that I'm getting my pants wet, I'll freeze the water and get it out later. "Fuck," I muttered, "I'm such a moron, I should've know."

"You probably should have, we weren't being very subtle," Lisa admitted. "But hey, that's what you've got us for. I'm a Thinker. I'm pretty much psychic. Grue makes darkness. Regent screws with nervous systems. Bitch makes huge monster dog things. You make ice. I think between all of us we can make a pretty convincing image of Hades for a haunted house or something," she said, chuckling.

"You know, I hadn't noticed that," Regent said. "You think we could charge people to try it?"

"Let's think about frivolous uses for our power when we don't have a potential ally waffling about her alliance with us."

"I'm not a villain, I - I can't-" I began, shaking my head. "I can't ally with you guys, I want to be a hero."

"Don't be stupid," Lisa said. "Ask yourself a question, Hero. Do you want to actually do good, or just be called a do-gooder?" she asked.

I looked up at her. "What does that mean?"

"What it means is that the people with the 'hero' label in Brockton Bay are all sitting pretty in their armored fortress while the rest of the city is getting choked by the gangs. Despite all the power and technology they possess, you never hear about, say, Dauntless cleaning up the streets he grew up in, do you? The Protectorate only cares about how the public perceives it. They're always in one PR function or Press Conference or another, they're never actually in the streets, keeping all of us safe."

I... can actually see where she's coming from. Sure, you get to hear about the Protectorate's capes pretty often, PHO's local subforums won't shut up about whether Dauntless or Armsmaster are cooler, people all over the USA can't stop gushing about the patriotic heroine Miss Militia, Velocity was often brought up as one of the fastest speedsters out there, etcetera.

But... come to think of it, Dad watches the news all the time, and all I ever hear about the Protectorate is how they get into cape fights but never arrest anyone. It's always 'the villains managed to slip away', or something about how they prioritized civilian lives over capturing the one putting them in danger, stuff like that.

"I think you get it," Lisa said. "The Protectorate is happy with the status quo. If they start removing Criminal Capes from the city, the reason for them to exist disappears as well, right? And nobody would ever pay them unless they were absolutely necessary. So the PRT and Protectorate are trying to keep the gangs as dangerous as possible, so that the government has no choice but to employ them."

Fuck. "Really?" I asked, already feeling a cold that didn't come from my power. I look up to those people. Hell, I've bought underwear with the leader of the Protectorate ENE, Armsmaster's, logo on it! I've been caught up in the hero worship of people who do just as much to help the city as the villains do!

"Pretty much, yeah," Lisa finished. "I'm not about to claim that we're good people doing good for everyone else. We benefit from the status quo, too. We don't hurt people, we just cause a small bit of property damage and steal, mostly from very, very evil people anyway," she added. "Nobody gets hurt. Sometimes we fight the heroes and justify their existence to the people. They mostly leave us alone in return."

"Why?" I asked. "Why do something like that?"

"Think of it as a game of cops and robbers," Lisa said. "Except we make really large amounts of money off of it, and sometimes we get to embarrass the other players. We make it so the people keeps trusting the Protectorate to defend them, so that they have enough money to actually do so when something rolls around that they are actually in a position to fight against fully."

I think I get it. "So they're keeping the status quo so they have funding to, say, fight off the Slaughterhouse Nine if they drop by?"

"Not that they'd succeed," Lisa stated. "But that's the idea, pretty much. Essentially, the gangs and villains are a necessary sacrifice to keep Brockton Bay safe from the stuff that's even worse out there," she admitted. "Besides, because of how they operate, we've got a better chance of being saved by the Empire or the ABB than the Protectorate if Jack Slash and crew drop by for coffee."

"That's kinda depressing," Alec said from where he sat, "and kinda pathetic. Man this city is a fucking shithole."

"It might be," Brian said, glaring at him, "but it's our shithole."

Alec laughed. "I guess it's my shithole now, too, since it's where I keep my stuff."

"Hell, we've all come to the decision to stick around in case of Endbringer," Lisa said. "So you see, Taylor? We're not bad people. We're villains. We steal. But we're not looking to hurt anyone and what we do only hurts companies that barely feel the loss."

"I..." I don't know. I can't accept it, just like that. I never knew, never understood, the complexities of the cape world, and I've got a feeling that most people who see it from the outside don't understand it either. I was completely ignorant until just now, about how it even started to work, and I'm not sure I like at all how it works. "I can't be part of your team. I won't be a villain."

"We're not asking you to be," Brian said. "We wouldn't make you do villain work. We don't want another team member, we want an ally."

"But I'm a hero," I'm confused about what he could possibly want from me in an alliance, considering I refuse, categorically, to perform criminal acts for profit.

"Lisa told you that we hit other criminals," he explained. "Sometimes this causes gangs and their capes to come after us. Nonpowered individuals are easy, but the heaviest hitter on our team is Bitch, and getting into fights with strong capes puts her dogs in very real danger."

Rachel growled. "We can fight," she said. "We can fight anyone you put us up against."

"You know perfectly well that there are opponents that can and will kill your dogs, Rache," Brian said. "Your dogs are strong, very strong, don't get me wrong, but they're also very important to our operations, and we can't risk jeopardizing them in fights."

She seemed oddly conflicted, from where I stand. On the one hand, she seems pleased that her contributions to the team are being recognized, while at the same time looking a bit doubtful about how genuine that appreciation is. On the other hand, she resents the implication of weakness or fragility. I can only even get that much because when I'm sunken into the cold, I can mostly ignore my own emotional projecting and focus on trying to decipher what her face hides.

"He's right," Lisa stated. "it's not a matter of strength. It's a matter of convenience. We lack heavy range. We lack flight capabilities for at least one of us, for air surveillance and recon and fighting fliers. Put simply, Taylor here fills the gaping hole in our lineup for fighting in cape conflicts, especially in this city. We're well equipped for handling the Wards and can mostly deal with the Protectorate, but the Empire has too much firepower for us, and while we can handle Oni Lee and might be able to take down Lung if we catch him unaware, both at the same time would trounce us."

"What are you getting at?" I asked.

Brian looked at me for a moment. "We'll help you with the ABB. In return, we want you to help us if we get into cape fights. We won't call you in against the Protectorate or the Wards unless you want us to, but... if we get in trouble with, say, the Empire or the Merchants or the ABB, we'll throw you a call, and you'll act like an indie hero who happened to be in the area. Mostly, we'd be okay with you covering our escape, but getting a few wins under our belt with you conveniently failing to catch us should help your credibility too. Don't worry about us 'slipping away', we've escaped from literally everyone in the city at least twice, we're considered the Masters of Escape around here."

"And that's the lamest title ever," Alec admitted.

"We should be fighting instead," Bitch said, frowning.

"I..."

I don't know what to say.

"Can I get back to you on that?" I asked, looking at Brian.

He smiled. "Yes," he said, "please, think about it."

Lisa broke into a smile. It was her usual, almost vulpine, smile that was full of smugness. "Well, Hero, here's a freebie for you that my power gave me. You can fly," she said.

"W-What?" I asked. I've barely mastered skating on my own ice heels, sliding along the ground. And by that I mean I no longer fall flat on my face every five feet. "What do you mean?"

"You telekinetically control ice," Lisa said. "Your armor is made of ice. Just lift it, and you'll lift yourself with it."

Oh.

Oh fuck, I'm so fucking stupid. How the hell did I not figure that out?!

Brian chuckled. "Don't worry, she makes us all feel dumb sometimes, when she points out the blindingly obvious."

"No fucking shit," Alec muttered.

No shit indeed.


End file.
